The Wretched
by x-Jacqueline-x
Summary: She made a promise to a woman she hardly knew, she saved her from the slaughter. Now one of the tributes from Four will have to make it out alive regardless of the consequences... "This is it, after this you'll be safe," I whisper to the fragile woman. "You promise?" She can hardly form the words between sobs. So I say the only thing I can think of to calm her, "Yes."
1. Chapter One: The Reaping

The Wretched

Chapter One

They can't see me.

They can't hear me.

I am safe here in my sanctuary.

The waves that lap against the side of my father's old fishing boat calm me. I am consumed by the salty air, gentle rocking of the sea and the warmth of the sun's rays breaking through the clouds above. I'm lost in myself and I have no intention of facing what looms over the shores of the fishing district. At least not yet, I still have a few hours left before I'll be forced to come ashore. I open my eyes to stare up at the clouds, trying to convince myself that I'll be safe this year. I keep telling myself that if I am picked, someone will surely volunteer. Not that anyone here cares enough about me as an individual to put their life on the line to save me, but this is a career district meaning someone will want the _glory_ of being a victor.

"I hope so…or else I'm fucked," I whisper afraid that if I were to speak any louder I might jinx it, condemning myself to those wretched games.

Turning over onto my stomach I reach over the side of the boat, trailing my fingers over the water's surface, loosing myself in the thoughts I came out here to escape from.

"This will be my last year, I just have to stand there and hope that _the odds are in my favor_" I say mocking the Capitol's absurd accent.

"Fourteen out of the thousands of slips in that massive fishbowl…I'll be fine."

I lay there, trailing my fingers through the cool liquid, weighing my options. I could slip away into the sea if only this boat were a decade or so younger and then there's my father waiting at home. I wouldn't make it past the islands in the distance before the peacekeepers would snatch me up in one of those hovercrafts. There was no doubt in my mind that I'd be taken prisoner and be put through horrors that would make death seem like a sweet embrace.

"So much for my sanctuary," I let out an exasperated breath and push myself up.

As I make my way back to shore I can't help feel as though I'm sailing towards my doom. The day of the reaping clung to the district like a leach, draining it of life. The market normally filled with the young and old of Four is deserted. No children fishing off the docks, or playing in the shallows and running along sand beds. No parents watching their little ones like hawks, or bargaining with the venders for tonight's meal. I'm surprised with how few fishermen are out; usually they won't be back at the docks until eleven. I've been out there longer than I thought, or perhaps they're too busy clinging to their loved ones, anticipating the moment when they'll be ripped from their arms by the Capitol's dogs.

The thought of District Two jumping through hoops just to ensure they stay in the Capitol's favor brings a sour taste to my mouth. We have careers here too; most of us are trained from a young age. Any child in Four can weave a net, fashion hooks from almost anything, swim and spear fish before they reach the young age of ten. We may be better off than some other districts, but we don't supply the Capitol with soldiers. The only people from District Four they get are the ones stolen from their families at the reaping. If they do come back from the games they are never the same, Annie is the prime example of that. The poor thing lost her marbles, and I can't say I blame her after seeing her district partner decapitated right before her eyes. I quickly shake the image from my mind as I tie my father's boat to the dock.

**Now is not the time to be thinking about the horrors of the games, I need to get through this with as little anxiety as possible. There's no point in hyping myself up over it, I'll be fine. It's my last year, after this there will be no more games for me. I'll spend most of my life out at sea in boats not unlike like this one. I'll grow old and die naturally and I will never have children. I refuse to let the Capitol take anyone else from me, they already have ****_her_****.**

As soon as I finish the knot I spin on my heel and bolt towards my little home. As I weave in between people already on their way to the JusticeBuilding, there was now no doubt in my mind that I am running late. I slam open my front door and rush down the hall leading into my bed room, nearly running into my father on my way.

"Watch it!" I hear his voice boom from the hallway.

"Sorry dad! Just give me a minute, I need to get changed!" I yell from my closet. My hands warp around the only dress in my possession; I love dresses but I simply can't afford them, not to mention they aren't exactly practical out at sea with all that wind.

"Hurry up we don't have all day!" He's worried that the peacekeepers might come retrieve us. I can hear it in his voice; it's the fear lacing in with his usual gruff tone.

I chance a look at the clock on my end table and instantly regret my little getaway this morning. I quickly pull the cotton dress over my body and zip up the back before fastening the belt around my waist. It's a simple turquoise dress with a sweetheart neckline that ends just above my knees; it was my mothers reaping dress when she was my age. Images of that day flash before my eyes, I squeeze them shut and shake my head.

**Don't cry now, not today.**

A bang on my bedroom door snaps me back to reality causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. Another glance at the clock, 11:40 we have to go now. I take one last look at my reflection before slipping into the hall where my father is waiting at the door, his face is slightly flushed and one of the veins in his temple is visible indicating that he's stressed.

**That's my cue to hurry the fuck up.**

* * *

By the time we make it to the square we are one of the last families to arrive. I can feel a hand on my shoulder, when I meet my father's eyes my heart constricts. He won't say it but he's scared, his eyes betray him and I can't bring myself to look at them any longer.

**There can be no weakness here, the capitol and their pets feed off of it. I will ****_not_**** give them that satisfaction.**

He squeezes my shoulder and nods towards a table where two female peacekeepers sit before removing his hand, his silent reminder to stay strong. I manage a thin smile for his sake before I walk over to the table. The peacekeeper grabs my hand and stabs my index finger with a needle with disinterest. I've always disliked this part; it's never been easy to get blood out of my fingers, bad circulation or something like that, it was the same with my mother. This process is far from comfortable and I feel as though she's trying to rip my finger off as she works the blood down to the tip. Once she's drawn out enough blood, she scans it and lets me take my place with all the other eighteen year old girls.

**Oh how considerate, front row seats!**

If looks could kill that little Capitol creature on stage would be engulfed in flames. I slot in between two other girls from my class who shuffle over to make room, one offers me a small smile. I can't remember her name for the life of me, Rachel I think…or maybe it's Rebecca, I have no idea. Instead I just give her a small nod and turn my attention back to the stage where our _lovely_ little pest stands playing with her turquoise hair, Callidora Waltz. She's pleased to be my district's representative; I can't hide the look of disgust on my face as she bats her abnormally long lashes at the beautiful man that is Finnick Odair. One moment she's ecstatic about sending him to a horrific death, the next she wants to be his _one true love_, pathetic. As expected, he flashes her one of his boyish smiles before she turns her attention back to the crowd and taps on the microphone sending a dull thud through the speakers.  
"Good afternoon to each and every one of you! Now that all of you are here, I would like to take this time to share a very important message from our very _generous_ President Snow! This _beautiful_ video is a gentle reminder of why we are all here, and how the _glorious_ games came to be. _Now_, without further a due…please enjoy this message straight from the Capitol!" Callidora gestures enthusiastically towards the giant screen bearing the Capitol's seal, an eagle with its wings spread apart grasping eight arrows in its talons. Of course the 'C' at the bottom of the seal has a pointed crown resting above it; reminding the districts of Panem who holds the power least we forget it. The same video they play every year replaces the seal; Snow's voice dubbed over it sends chills up my spine. I hate that man; he's the root of all evil in Panem. I've seen this video every year of my life; I know it like the back of my hand. My eyes wander aimlessly over the faces of the crowd, I catch a few eyes but for the most part everyone's eyes are glued to the screen in a mixture of fear, pain, and even pride. I quickly turn back to the stage, wondering what people see in my eyes. Do they see fear or resentment, weakness or strength? I don't know, and I'm not sure I want to find out, instead I try my hardest to clear all emotion from my face and hold whoever's gaze I meet next. I'm met with the sea-green orbs of Finnick, he would be mistaken for indifferent if it weren't for the crease in between his brow and the slight pull at the corner of his bow shaped lips. I instantly dislike his expression, it does nothing to calm my nerves and I'm sure my unease is showing through as well.

"Wasn't that just _lovely_? My, my, my how our President has a way with words, _absolutely lovely_!" I fix my eyes on her and she takes a step towards the two fishbowls, "Now let's start with the boys for a change! I love a little _diversity_." She says the last part with a wink directed to Finnick.

**Just get it over with already.**

I chance a look to where my father stands in the crowd; he's standing tall with his head held high. He appears confident, but I'm sure the arms crossed over his chest hide fists clenched so tight that the knuckles are as white as the bone underneath his tanned skin.

"Murrow Al-" Callidora's voice is drowned out by a scream to my left. My head snaps towards the girl who had offered me the reassuring smile, she's covering her ears and seems to be sobbing in a heap on the sand covered pavement. Callidora glares at the girl beside me with distaste before clearing her throat, "Yes as I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted. The boy tribute from district four is _Murrow Alta_!"

**Who is she?**

I rack my brain as I reach down to help her back onto her feet. As soon as I have her standing her arms immediately shoot around me and she buries her face deep into the crook of my neck, I can feel her brooch digging into the exposed skin on my chest. I've never been in this situation; usually it's the parents that breakdown, their children are too busy convincing themselves they're safe for this year to let the reality of what price comes with their safety to sink in. I wasn't prepared for this so I wrap my arms around her and search for the only person moving in the square, my eyes find him and I think I remember who this girl is. I've seen them together at school, never leaving each other's sides. They both share the same wavy brown hair and blue eyes, I think they're related. My eyes catch his for a moment and I know he will do whatever it takes to come back home to her. I can't say I blame him either as I look at the woman in my arms, I'm reminded of Annie Cresta. My arms tighten around her, I'm afraid that her sanity will slip away if I let her go now. Even on stage his eyes stay fixed on the girl clinging to me, I have to look away, his gaze is so intense and I feel ashamed that I can't do more to help her. I expect one of the careers from our district to lung forward and volunteer to take his place, to rip the presumed glory out from under Murrow's feet and in turn save two lives. But no one calls out, everyone stays frozen in place and Callidora brings her dark blue lips to the microphone once again. "Thank you for joining us; now tell us, who is that woman?" The sweet tone in her voice is sickening as she talks to him as though he's a toddler. His eyes never move from the hysterical woman, his jaw clenches and his answer comes out in a whisper.

Callidora furrows her brow and tilts her head to the side, "I'm sorry, but I couldn't hear you, could you please speak up Murrow?"

"She's my sister." He does nothing to conceal the venom dripping from his voice.

"How touching, she must really love you. _Now_ let's get onto the lucky lady this year!" She seems completely unfazed by the hostility radiating off of the young man beside her. She steps up to the fishbowl containing girls' names, her gloved hand traces around the rim of the bowl a few times.

**She loves this, that sick fuck.**

I hold onto Rebecca tighter, slowly stroking her dark brown locks as Callidora plunges her gloved hand into the sea of names, fourteen of which have my own name scrawled across them.

"This is it, after this you'll be safe," I whisper to the fragile woman.

"You promise?" She can hardly manage to form the words between sobs.

So I say the only thing I can think of to calm her, "Yes."

There's a long pause when Callidora pulls out a tiny white slip. I don't like the glint in her eyes or the small smile playing at the corner of her navy lips. I can't imagine what sort of twisted amusement this is causing her, until she wets her lips and condemns another victim to the death trap that is the Hunger Games.

_"Rebecca Alta!"_

Almost immediately after the name is called I let out the breath, the same one I've been unknowingly holding since I made my promise to this broken girl.

**I'm safe.**

I can feel her go ridged in my arms, she's stopped breathing for a moment.

**_Rebecca Alta_**

The reality of whose name it was on that paper hits me like a tidal wave.

**_Rebecca Alta_**, I told this woman that she would be safe just moments ago.

**How foolish of me, now she'll be thrown into an arena and pitted up against her own flesh and blood. That's why Callidora was so happy reading that slip, this year's hunger games will be so interesting for the people of the Capitol. **

The woman in my arms is now sobbing hysterically, weighing me down like an anchor.

**That idiot, she's showing all of Panem the same weakness my dad worked so hard to stomp out of me. They'll eat her alive in the arena.**

I reach up to the hands that grip my dress for dear life and attempt to pry them off, of course she struggles and there's no doubt in my mind that all the cameras are focused on us.

_**Wonderful.**_

I wonder how long it will take for Callidora to send her dogs to go fetch this year's tribute, for a moment I consider letting them take her.

**No I made a promise; I can't let the capitol have her too.**

I chance a look at Murrow, and my heart constricts for the second time today. His eyes are practically bulging out of his skull; he's shaking and looks as if he's about to jump off the stage towards us.

**I can't let this happen…I have to keep my promise**.

**I can't push her up to the stage where there might as well be gallows in place of those fishbowls. **

**It's now or never.**

"Shhh…Don't cry, I told you that you'd be safe. I won't let them hurt you, just let go now." I try to adopt the same tone my mother would use to put me to sleep after a nightmare.

I can tell Callidora is just about ready to send the peacekeepers over to retrieve Rebecca; she's long since lost her patience with the broken woman "Rebecca Al-"

"I volunteer!" My voice cuts through the crowd, it's not shaky like I was expecting.

**Good, dad would hate that…****_Dad!_**

My eyes dart over to where he's standing frozen like a statue and feel a pang of guilt.

"Well, well, well come up then, don't be shy my dear!" Callidora's voice makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I feel Rebecca's head lift off of my neck to look at me; I shoot her a small smile not unlike the one she gave me earlier. I can see the confusion written clearly over her small features, she looks like a child with those huge blue eyes. This time she doesn't resist when I pry her hands off of me, instead she just takes a step back and brings her hands to her mouth.

**Yeah, she wouldn't make it past the bloodbath at the Cornucopia.**

Once I'm sure she won't latch back onto me I spin around and head towards the stairs leading up to the stage.

**Keep your head held high and be strong, remember what father told you at your first reaping:**

_**"These creatures are not people; if you show them any weakness they will eat you alive. The smallest ounce of fear and they will swarm you like sharks to chum, do not be afraid Jacqueline." His stern expression did not waver, what he was telling me would mean life or death one day.**_

Callidora has one of her gloved hands stretched out to me; she's saying something about me being very brave to take that _poor girl's _place. I don't pay her words much attention though; my eyes are locked on Murrow's unreadable sapphire orbs. When I'm on stage I completely ignore Callidora's hand, resulting in her placing her outstretched hand on my back as she leads me to the correct spot on stage.

**Like I haven't seen seventeen other girls stand in this exact same spot**.

It takes every ounce of control I have to stop myself from shrugging her hand off of me as she turns us towards the sea of people. My eyes scan the crowd for where my dad will be standing; I have to bite the inside of my lip to prevent myself from crying out to him. He's a spitting image of his younger self from so many years; rigid, pale and face void of any emotion. It's the same day that haunts my dreams. While I may not remember it very well apart from a few foggy tidbits, I know that look better than I know myself, he's breaking all over again and it's my fault.

**Me and my bleeding heart.**

I'm pulled from my thoughts by how close Callidora is to me as she holds the microphone between the two of us "Can I have your name dearie?" I refrain myself from cringing at the pet name.  
"Jacqueline Fitzgerald," my voice is barely above a whisper when I answer her, I can't tare my eyes off of my father.

**How could I do this to him? I should have thought about how this would affect him, he already lost his wife and now his daughter threw away what little freedom she had to save some pathetic woman from slaughter. I was done with the games, no longer would I be rounded up like cattle with the rest of the children, and what do I do? Jump right into the slaughter house, there must be something wrong with me mentally.**

"I give you the tributes from District Four in the Seventy-fourth Annual Hunger Games, the lovely Jacqueline Fitzgerald and Murrow Alta!" Callidora stops talking for a moment and waits for the crowd to start to applaud. It takes a moment but soon everyone is clapping, most of which are happy their families are safe. The look of relief washing over the front row sends a pang of jealousy through me; I would have been among them if it weren't for that promise. I'm still lost in my thoughts when I feel Callidora's gloved hand turn me towards the other tribute, his eyes are so blue, I'm reminded of the matching pair in the audience.

**Damn those eyes**.

I reach out my hand to shake his; it's the custom of the games to pretend that you're not plotting this person's untimely demise.

I'm saved from my darkening thoughts by that godforsaken sentence we all loath. "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" Callidora's voice seems to echo inside my skull as Murrow grasps my hand and jerks me forward into his chest.

"What the f-" the rest of my sentence is muffled by his chest when strong arms wrap around me.

**What is with this family and their affinity for invading personal space!?**

I seriously consider pushing him off of me, and quickly come to the conclusion that I wouldn't be able to.

**The Capitol is going to eat this up; your supposed to ****_kill _****me not ****_hug_**** me!**

**I struggle to turn my head enough to breathe; however the hand he has resting on the back of my head proves to make that task more difficult that it should be.**

**Perhaps he means to suffocate me to spare me the madness of the games, but of course that's just wishful thinking.**

"Oh well, isn't that just darling?" I can tell by her tone that she's anxious to get us into the building.

Pft, maybe it would be if I could breathe!

"Thank you," His whisper is muffled by my hair; I could only just make out the words. He releases me and walks through the entrance of the Justice building, it only takes a second after Murrow releases me for Callidora to place her hand on my shoulder and guide me into the building. Peacekeepers are waiting for us, looking for any sign of resistance. I'm sure if I decided to run they wouldn't think twice about tackling me to the ground and dragging me onto the train by my hair. One of them grabs me by the elbow and shoves me into a plush room to my left; I trip over the decretive carpet and collapse on the floor. "Stupid dog," I mutter as I pull myself up and walk towards the window.

**Of course they bolted it shut.**

I roll my eyes at the thought of running away after volunteering.

**Pathetic, my dad would be so ashamed if I were to act like a scared little girl in front of these people.**

I stare out the window, captivated by the sea visible between the houses and shops; I can just make out the white foam of the waves as they crash into the sand, I want nothing more than to be in my sanctuary. I rest my head on the cool glass and let out a deep breath, "What have I done?"

"You did the right thing, as much as I hate to admit it," the soft click of a shutting door meets my ears. I can't bring myself to look at my father; the pain in his voice is enough to bring tears to my eyes.

I thought he would have yelled at me, I wasn't prepared for his _acceptance_.  
"Dad… I'm… I'm so sorry." My voice is catching in my throat with the tears are threatening to spill. I can't keep looking out the window, this will be the last chance I get to see him but I can't look at him yet, not when I know he'll look the same way he did sixteen years ago "You know what me volunteering for Rebecca means right?"

"Jackie, you don't have to, you don't owe those people anything." I hear him take a step towards me and I snap.

"I'm going to die in there dad!" My voice seems personified in the previously quite room.

He spins me around, "No you're strong, and we prepared for this."

I can't hold them in any longer, tears cascade down my face. "You know what I mean, I didn't volunteer for the _glory,_" I spit out the word like its poison, "I don't care about that! I took that girl's place to keep her safe, so her brother wouldn't have to decide between his life and hers! You can't honestly expect me to go in there and _murder_ him after I promised her I wouldn't let them hurt her anymore?! I'm dead dad, D-E-A-D!" A hand collides with the side of my skull, not hard but enough to get me to shut up.

"Jacqueline _calm down,_" he hisses, I simply bite my lip and wipe the tears from my face.

"Good, now there are twenty-two other tributes to worry about. You know as well as I do that they don't give two shits about your promise to that Alta girl. Starting now until you return to District Four I want you to do everything in your power to ensure one of our tributes makes it home alive. I know you have a soft spot for the position that girl is in; however you were a lot younger than her when your mother was reaped. Remember he's not the only one who has someone who needs him to make it out of the games. I've already lost my wife, I don't know if I can handle loosing my daughter too." He wipes one of his large hands down his face using those few seconds to collect himself, "I don't care what you have to do; one of you _has_ to come back _alive_, do you understand?" His forest green eyes are locked with my chestnut ones, unable to find my voice I just nod in response. "I need to hear you say it, promise me you'll do this," he's not asking anymore and for the second time this afternoon I say the only thing I can in my position.

"I promise," My voice is shaky and I hate it.

The doors swing open and my father engulfs me in the tightest hug I've ever had, it takes me all of two seconds to return it. This will be the last time I'll ever see him, and it's killing me to know I've abandoned him.

"I love you," I whisper as I feel the peacekeepers trying to pull us apart, and I give him a tight squeeze before letting go.  
"I love you too trouble," I smile at his old nickname for me. Before he pulls away he removes one of his arms to reach for something in his jacket. Something cold is pressed into my palm before the capitol's pets pull us apart and usher him out of the room, slamming the door closed behind them. I pick up the thin silver chain of my father's token and gasp at what's on the end of it. Dangling in front of my face is a silver ring, a sapphire as blue as the ocean surrounded by tiny diamonds that shine like stars, my mother's ring. I used to spend hours admiring it on her slender fingers. It was her mother's she would tell me, and one day it'd be mine. This obviously wasn't what she had in mind when she said that, but it's the only piece of home small enough to take with me. I'm so focused on the sapphire that I don't notice her come in until there is a dainty hand resting on my shoulder. I jump and spin around clutching the ring to my chest. I'm met with a pair of intense blue eyes.

"It's beautiful," Rebecca nods to the ring hidden in my hand and her expression mirrors that of a lost child, I'm not sure if I like those eyes.

"Thank you," I eye her waiting for her to pull me into another hug; I think she sees this because her face is paved with guilt.

"I'm sorry for putting you through this... I shouldn't have let you take my place." Her voice is cautious, like she expects me to yell at her; and it's that exact tone that sets me off.

"Sorry but what makes you think you could have stopped me?" My voice paved in malice. It isn't her answer I want; the words are meaningless now. I'm trying to provoke her; I need concrete evidence that if I let those peacekeepers take her back there that she would have been fine. That I was wrong and by her having enough of a spine to stand up to me now, if I couldn't keep her brother alive it was still okay, she would be able to live through it. She wouldn't end up like Annie.

**Come on! Please just let a little fire flash in those eyes; that's all I need.**

I stop breathing when Rebecca's eyes hold mine for a moment, but it's a fleeting moment and soon her eyes drop to the floor and I can see her shrink back.

**Fuck.**

I run a hand over my face letting out the breath I held in anticipation, there is now no doubt in my mind that if I didn't intervene back there I might as well have thrown her to the sharks.

**So it's decided then, no matter what happens I need to send her brother back to her alive.**

"I made a promise didn't I?" before she opens her mouth to object I continue in a softer voice, "I couldn't let someone like you be in the games, it would destroy you."

**She looks like she wants to hug me again.** **I really hope she doesn't.**

Something is different about her; I scan her petite form and notice the brooch is missing as I subconsciously rub the fading imprint upon my chest.

"I gave it to Murrow, for luck…" She's playing with the corner of her dress; two little holes are visible in the fabric where it would have been. We stand there for a minute or so lost in thought and of course she's the one to break it, "Why did you do it?"

I knew this was coming, my simple excuse from earlier wouldn't satisfy her curiosity. I find it's increasingly difficult to remember that she's the same age as me; she seems so much younger than eighteen.

"You were hysterical. You wouldn't make it past the first night… yeah you'd have Murrow if you could get to each other in time, but how is he supposed to protect himself if he's focused on you? The other tributes and gamemakers would use it against him… and then what happens if it comes down to the two of you, what then?" She opens her mouth to speak but I cut her off, "You wouldn't be able to live with the outcome, there is no way he would let you sacrifice yourself; don't even bother trying to convince yourself that you would. You were so helpless and pathetic that I couldn't let you do it… better me than you." She doesn't say anything at first, I'm not sure if she's offended. As I stare at her searching for any sort of reaction, she slowly nods,

"I see…I suppose I should thank you then."

"Don't thank me yet, it's only just begun," perhaps I should be a little more compassionate. However I can't handle feeling like I owe her anything else, I've already given up my life for her.

**Why though? Because she is so pathetic?**

**This wasn't the first time someone has cried like that from the reaping, maybe it was because I couldn't tune it out with her clinging to me like that.**

"You reminded me of how I was when my mother was taken from us, clinging to my father like the anchor to my sanity." I say more to myself than her. I can see her reach a hand out to me and I refrain from grimacing before the door is burst open and a peacekeeper escorts her out, she hesitates before she goes willingly unlike my previous visitor.

**Why the hell did I tell her that?**

**I need to stop asking myself questions I don't want the answers to**.

There is no third visitor, so I just sit in one of the plush chairs by the window and stare at the sea until the peacekeepers come to bring me to the train.

**What I wouldn't give to be out on those waves...**

* * *

**AN: So this is my first fan fiction, please tell me what you think. I figured using common names for the girls would work fine in district four, considering Annie and Mags are common names. I couldn't find a name that really stuck out to me for the main character so I just settled for my own name, I hope you don't mind the lack of creativity on that aspect. I looked into different spellings of it, but I couldn't find one that I liked the look of. I wasn't exactly willing to loose my train of thought over a name, while the OC shares my name that is as far as the similarities go so don't worry :). Because Finnick Odair isn't a common name so I had a lot of interesting names relating to the sea and settled for Murrow Alta. I tried choosing one that wasn't overly obvious though like Aegeus, while I adore that name it would just be a little too distracting for the people who know Greek mythology. I hope you liked it :)**

**As far as future chapters I haven't entirely decided who the main pairing will be, I'm stuck between OC/Finnick and OC/Cato. Of course I'll be sticking to the original Finnick/Annie just because it's my favorite pairing in the book, but I'm thinking I might throw in a little fluff between the OC and Finnick. So far I'm leaning more towards OC/Cato just because I absolutely hate Clove and Glimmer's character and I can't very well set him up with Marvel while staying as true to his character as possible in a romance, it just simply wont work. Just as a warning, I will be altering the original story line to make sure it flows properly, so if you're apposed to that I'd stop reading this fan fiction. **

**For those of you who will be following this story; I should have updates every few days depending on how much spare time I have.**

**Until next time, **

**Jacqueline**


	2. Chapter Two: Trains and Tributes

Chapter Two

The train station is located on the outskirts of Four, I've never been there and can't say I'm surprised at how run down it is. The only time it is ever used is the events before and after the games, and when the Capitol summons a victor; usually Finnick Odair. I honestly cannot fathom why on earth he would consider touching one of those creatures, the very thought of it is enough to make me sick. But_ of course_ Finnick Odair is smiling and waving to the Capitol creatures swarming the car, and I start to question my mentor's character; **maybe he is as shallow as my father seems to think. Sure he endured horrors most of us only experience through a screen, but why does he embrace the Capitol like it isn't the reason behind his suffering? He may live in luxury now, he wasn't born a victor; he became one. Nine years ago, Finnick was no different from Murrow or me.**

I can't help but wonder what broke this man; there must be something terribly wrong with him. I've seen glimpses of the other victors in the recap of the reapings every year, standing on the stage like the Capitol's trophy as if to say; 'Look what we can do. We will take your children and mold them into murderers, and there is nothing you can do to stop us.' All the other victors I've seen have been in various states of instability, aside from a few careers that look almost proud. Most of which have turned to intoxication to escape whatever demons come with the _glory. _Others are exactly how I would expect someone to act after the Capitol's treachery, cold and withdrawn like Johanna Mason. Then there's Annie Cresta, who has never been far from my thoughts of the games; I have this constant fear of ending up like her in the arena. Between my father, school, and working on that old fishing boat; I should be ready. But how can someone truly prepare for the games? I can prepare for them physically but what happens if they throw me into a desert or tundra? All my training would do me no good in those wastelands. However my body isn't what I'm worried about now, it's my mind. With a mentor who spends all his time seducing the women of the Capitol, no one will be able to prepare us mentally for the horrors of the games. I've seen people lose their marbles on multiple occasions; it isn't hard and it's just about as deadly as an infection out there. The sole reason behind Annie's survival was that she could swim; the gamemakers will not make that mistake again.

**If I lose my marbles not only will I die out there, there will be no one to keep Murrow alive, he will be completely on his own.**

While I don't doubt his abilities, it's Districts One and Two I'm worried about. There is no doubt in my mind that they will form a deadly alliance. When it comes down to it, regardless of wither or not Murrow is apart of said alliance, they will kill him. Alliances in the games only go so far, as soon as they've picked off the other tributes or they have no further use for you, they turn on you.

**When it comes down to it, it really is survival of the fittest.**

I look at Murrow as the car doors open and wonder how much he knows about the games already, if anything at all. My father spent a lot of time down at the docks; sometime's he'd just sit there fishing in the wee hours of the morning. I think he went there to think rather than fish, there was never anything good so close to shore anyway. On occasion he told me he'd have company, I wasn't sure who he was talking about so one morning I came with him. His visitor was far from whom I expected; I thought it would be one of the other fishermen or maybe even a pretty little thing from the market. Instead his mystery companion was an old woman, a victor by the name of Mags. It turns out he's been meeting with her a couple of times a week since she returned from the Fifty-ninth Hunger Games, the year of my mother's reaping.

**I guess she felt guilty or something like that. **

They would only talk for half and hour or so; during that time she'd occasionally tell him small bits of information relating to inner workings of the games, nothing that could get either one of them in any serious amount of trouble if overheard.

**That is of course if they could translate the gurgling noses coming from the old woman into proper sentences.**

I'm brought back to the present by a blinding flash of light; I blink frantically trying to expel the dots that engulf my vision. Between the flashing sea of the Capitol's camera men, I make out the crumbling red brick and damaged roof of the train station.

**This place has clearly seen better days.**

Callidora is leading the way through the colorful mass, it isn't a long distance to the train but it is taking a lot longer than it should with all these people. I chance a look over my shoulder at my fellow tribute, Murrow Alta. He couldn't be anymore annoyed; his blue eyes narrowed into slits and his body is visibly rigid. I can't be certain but I don't think a hostile tribute will gain many sponsors. Something my father made sure he ingrained into my mind. Regardless of how much I hate them, gaining the favor of a few powerful Capitol creatures might very well mean life or death in the arena.

**He really isn't making this easy.**

I shake my head and slow pace through the crowd until I'm beside Murrow, offering him a small smile. We're a little closer than I would have liked due to the swarm of bodies pressing in on us, but I have to get him to at least appear calm. He looks down at me with questioning eyes, and because I doubt I would be able to place my hand on his shoulder without it being caught on camera, I grab his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. He looks as if he's about to pull away, but then his eyes soften and he seems to understand. Once he looks relaxed I drop his hand before someone takes notice of our little exchange.

* * *

By the time we make it on the train I swear I will be seeing blue and purple dots for the rest of my life.

**I sincerely hope that's the last time I have to go through that, they're like a flock of gulls fighting over a scrap of food.**

"Thanks for that," Murrow's voice breaks the silence. This is my first time actually hearing his voice; unaltered by venom or muffled from my hair. It's deep, with a smooth almost melodic tone that calms me.

**I wonder if he can sing, perhaps he used to sign to Rebecca.**

I give him a thin smile when I look at him leaning against the closed-door, relief coating his features.

"Anytime," I can't bring myself to lecture him about the importance of putting on a show for the Capitol just yet. I'm hoping our mentor will go through that with us, but I don't know how realistic that is considering hardly any tributes from Four make it back alive. Only one tribute since Finnick became a mentor has made it out of the games; Annie Cresta, and she hardly made it. Instead I just let him relax, he's been on edge since he woke up, so have I. Almost everyone in Four goes through the same sort of anxiety today, only this time there is no relief that follows the reaping, not for us at least.

Callidora's enthusiastic voice disturbs his moment of relaxation "Alright lets not wallow around in the entrance! Murrow get up and follow Finnick to your room."

**Her smile is so fake, but of course that could just be her entire being.**

A small groan escapes his lips along with something inaudible as he stands to his feet. There's a loud roar as the train comes to life, Murrow uses the wall to help steady him as the train's harsh rhythm shoots through the car. I've never set foot anywhere near a train and almost fall forward, however a calloused hand on my shoulder holds me in place. I look over at its owner, Finnick flashes me one of his characteristic boyish smiles.

**I wonder if he'll actually do anything to keep us alive.**

My eyes wander down his muscular arm to his hand resting on my bare shoulder.

**He's certainly capable, it's only a matter of him deciding what's more important; the constant string of****_ lovers_**** or us.**

I guess I started glaring at his hand at some point because he abruptly removes it as if my skin is on fire.

"Good, good, now that your up go get changed for dinner, it is in an hour and do _not_ be late mister!" Impatience starting to surface in her tone, Callidora motions towards the door to her left. "Jacqueline, please follow me," she offers me a thin smile as she leads me through the door. She's thankfully quiet all the way down the swaying hall, only breaking the silence when she stops in front of the last door on the right. "This is your room dearie; it's regretfully bland, though fortunately you'll only have to sleep here for one night. Tomorrow we'll be in the Capitol with all its luxuries! Isn't that exciting? Well go on then, be ready for dinner in an hour. Just straight through there two cars down, you can't miss it," she motions to her left towards the door beside her. The train sways a bit more and I find myself clutching the door handle to my room, I feel as though I'm stuck out at sea during a storm. "Oh don't worry about that, once we pick up speed it'll feel as if it's not even moving, this little thing can reach speeds upwards of 200 miles per hour! Isn't that splendid?" I suppose she is trying to comfort me; however her shrill voice does nothing to calm my unease so I simply nod and enter my room. I'm about to shut the door when Callidora opens her mouth again, "Remember, dinner is in fifty-five minutes do not be late, I don't approve of tardiness!"

**Does this woman ever shut up?**

"Yeah I'll be there," I shut the door quickly before she can pester me anymore.

The 'bland' room is far grander than my room back in the fishing district. The walls are painted a pale shade of beige, with a large window spanning the majority of the outer wall. My eye's dart towards a small bed to the left, I want nothing more than to curl up under those thick covers and hope that I'll wake up back in my bed in Four with the gulls sounding in the distance. I have to pull my eyes away from the bed beckoning me closer with every passing second; I don't have time to sleep now. The other half of the room is furnished with a set of chairs and a small mahogany coffee table beside two sets of doors. I open the one on the right first, and I'm greeted by a good assortment of garments varying in color and style. I run my hand over the skirt of my dress; I don't want to chance ruining it. Looking over my shoulder I make sure I'm alone before unfastening the belt around my waist and unzipping the back of my dress; it falls to the ground in a pool around my feet and I'm left in nothing but my underwear. I run my hand along the various fabrics; I've never seen so many clothes in my life.

**Where do I even start?**

"I wonder if they have anything normal…" I whisper lost in the mass of colors, "It doesn't look like it."

I'm about to give up and put my dress back on when I spot a pair of dark pants. I snatch them out of the closet, afraid they may disappear if I let them out of my sight.

**Now to find a shirt…that isn't exploding in ruffles.**

"Hmm" I bite my lip in concentration,

**There are way too many clothes here**.

After what seems like an eternity dedicated to a fruitless search, I find a simple white blouse that will have to do.

**I never want to go through this thing again; I bet I could find Atlantis in there if I looked hard enough.**

I eye the closet suspiciously before I open the door on the left. Everything is stark white; I'm forced to squint at its intensity. I enter the bathroom once my eyes adjust, trailing my hand across the marble countertop. My eyes glide across its smooth surface to the silver faucet; I turn the water on full blast, the sound of the rushing water calms my nerves slightly. I smile as the cool liquid pools in my cupped hands before I splash my face a few times and turn off the water.

**Well at least I'm not so tired anymore.**

Above the sink is a decorative mirror, its' frame seemingly weaved from tiny silver vines. I stand there for a few minutes staring blankly at my reflection; the girl staring back at me seems so bland compared to all the colors attacking my eyes at the station. Dark brown hair woven into a fishtail that falls down to my mid back and the same eyes as my late mother. My chestnut orbs look lifeless as the day's events play across my mind, each time my father's face appears the constricting around my heart follows soon after.

**I wonder how dad is holding up now that he's alone in the confines of our little home. Or maybe he's out on his boat, trying to escape from today's events and the memories that are sure come with them. I may not remember it clearly, but to him it must seem as though he's reliving it all over again, only without a hysterical toddler this time around. **

I let out a long breath, unweaving my long brown hair from its braid down my back. When I think about my father, I'm astounded that he managed the task of raising a little girl so well.

**At least I like to think I turned out alright.**

He was seventeen when my mother had me at the young age of sixteen. I'm positive I was a mistake; no one in their right mind would purposely have a child at that age, especially with the threat of the games weighing down on them. Once her belly started swelling up he was the first one to suggest they tie the knot, quite literally. It was my father's parents who wove the net that would be draped overtop of them. Her parents were furious about the pregnancy of course. They refused to have any part in the wedding nor did they acknowledge us after her death. She had made it to her last reaping completely safe thus far; I remember her shooting me and my father goofy smiles from her spot in the front row, completely unfazed by the dreadful day. She was eighteen and she should have been free from the games in just moments, too wrapped up thoughts of her future with us to hear her name being called. I can remember the confusion written plainly over her face as two of the Capitol's dogs grabbed her arms and pulled her to the stage. As she stood there with those big brown eyes filling up with tears, my father's face remained blank. He must have seemed heartless to anyone who bothered to look, I would have thought so too, if it weren't for the slight increase in pressure where his hands held me. She would never come back; at that time I was too young to completely wrap my head around that concept.

He was a career from Two; _'a vicious little weasel'_ was how my father described him to me when I asked why I didn't have a mother. I distinctly remember that I didn't take that very well. My father was never good at sugar-coating things, he wanted to make me as strong as possible incase my name was ever called at the reaping. He refused to lose me like he did her, and I can't say I blame him. Sure he had my grandmother for the most part to help him out, but she was already in her late seventies, well over the average life expectancy in Four. When his mother passed away and his father soon followed suit, the weight of the parenthood fell solely on his shoulders, he had to be strong for the both of us until I was old enough to take some of the weight. I run a hand through my hair as I attempt to distract myself, it doesn't work in the slightest.

**I wish I could go for a swim right about now…**

The cool water of the harbor always did wonders for my nerves.

**I doubt there will be much time for swimming in the Capitol.**

I see a pile of plush towels lying on the marble counter, roll my eyes and turn towards the glass box behind me pulling off my remaining clothes.

**This will have to do I guess.**

I take a step forward, reaching my hand out to slide open the doors and jump as its doors open of their own accord.

**What the hell?!**

I lift my foot to look for a switch that I may have stepped on, when I can't find anything I shrug it off and step inside the glass shower.

**Probably a sensor…**

I'm met by a huge panel with various buttons, all of which meaning absolutely nothing to me.

**Is it so hard to have anything remotely close to normal here?**

I bring a hesitant finger towards a big green button, glaring at it suspiciously "I swear to god, if water doesn't come out of you I'm going to stab you."

**I must sound ridiculous talking to a cluster of buttons.**

A smile appears on my face as water sprays out of the shower head.

**Now comes the tricky part, I don't know which one is the soap...**

I resort to pressing random buttons, and I'm met with an odd concoction smelling like a mixture of lavender and strawberries.

**They really need an instruction booklet or ****_something_****.**

I decide not to try my luck again and scrub the mixture into my hair and over my skin. It doesn't smell bad thankfully, just a little strange. I've been standing there for a while, letting the suds run off my body and into the drain by my feet. The warm water cascading down my body puts me at ease until I realize I must be pushing the hour mark.

**Maybe Callidora is on her way now to burst through my bathroom door and drag me to dinner naked.**

I let the thought sink in for a minute before I decide I wouldn't put it past her. I press a few buttons to try to turn the water off; I all but leap out of the shower. I've given up after being unsuccessful in my first few attempts. So far I've only discovered how to change the temperature from scolding hot to ice-cold.

**I'm not going to fuck around with that thing anymore, I could be here hours trying to turn it off. **

I take a step towards the fluffy towels on the counter when the water stops. I spin around half expecting a furious Callidora standing there, but I'm only met with the steam waffling around the bright room.

**I wonder if Murrow thinks the showers are as creepy as I do.**

* * *

**Of course I'm the last one to arrive.**

Callidora looks at my wet hair and choice of clothes with distain, my eyes narrow.

**What was she expecting a fluffy pink dress? **

"Jacqueline, how considerate of you to join us." She almost hisses, if it weren't for my growling stomach I would have gone back to my room.

**I really don't need her shit now.**

"Yes, well your showers fall just a little short of a death trap," My voice adopts a mock politeness and I take the only empty seat left beside Finnick.

I can see that I wasn't the only one having trouble; Murrow's skin is still tinted red from the hot water and I think I smell something close to roses coming from his direction.

"Yeah those things are a little tricky at first, but..." Finnick's previously light tone drops an octave, "If you're having difficulty, I could always give you a private lesion."

He finishes with a wink causing my jaw to drops slightly. I can feel the heat creeping across my cheeks, the unease in my voice evident, "No. I'm sure I'll manage just fine by myself, thanks."

A small smile plays at the corner of his lips as he leans in closer to me, until his face is just inches from mine. I'm resisting the urge to punch him when his fingers weave into my damp hair.

"What the hell are you doing Finnick?" I hiss out instead.

"You look stressed; clearly you could use a little something to lighten your mood." Finnick's low voice gives me chills, I don't like how close he is or how the entire room is dead quiet aside from Mag's gurgling laughter. I'm about to yell something at him, when a low growl escapes Murrow's lips.

"Will you just leave her alone _Odair_?" His usual smooth tone replaced with the same one he used at the reaping, low and dripping with venom.

"Oh my…" Callidora's shrill voice is hardly audible above Mag's laughter. There's a glint in Finnick's eye when he looks at the young man, a smirk replacing his smile. He brings his sea-green eyes back to my chestnut ones, and I can't help myself from becoming lost in them.

**Why is he so damn beautiful? It really isn't fair.**

I glare at him, not liking the route my thoughts are taking me down; his smirk grows at my expression. He brings his other hand up to my face, there's a small white block in-between his index and middle fingers, "Sugar cube?"

Mag's laugher booms through the car and is soon followed by Finnick's; this was all a joke, I'm not sure if I should be offended or relieved. Callidora just sits there with an annoyed expression, something tells me she's seen this before. If it weren't me at the receiving end of his little joke I might actually find it funny. As I look across the table at Murrow something in me snaps, it's obvious he's caught in-between disgust and amusement.

**Wasn't he just telling Finnick to leave me alone?**

I act out on impulse once again.

**Well two can play at that game.**

I glare at Finnick one last time before I put on the most seductive face I can manage; I wrap my slender fingers around his hand, slowly bringing my lips to Finnick's fingers that still hold the cube. His laughter comes to an abrupt halt and his sea-green eyes snap towards my lips. He looks completely dumbfounded as I slide my lips over his fingers and back off again, taking the sugar cube with them. Mag's of course is still cackling in the background and I cannot stop the smug look from creeping across my features, his face is just too priceless. It takes a moment but soon enough I can hear Murrow chucking from across the table, turning my smug expression into a full-out grin.

"Well then…now that we're all, um, acquainted. Let's continue with dinner before they show the highlights of the reapings." Callidora is clearly uncomfortable; her abnormally squeaky tone reminds me of a mouse.

**I wonder if she likes snakes.**

She continues before my thoughts can go down that path, probably for the better.

"Finnick, please save the sugar for the horses at the parade."

"Of course Callie, but are you sure you don't want one?" Finnick laughs lightly as holds out a sugar cube to her, a small smirk playing at his lips.

**Glad to see he's back to normal, well as normal as Finnick Odair can be.**

She mutters something under her breath, I could have sworn I picked up the words 'egotistical jerk', but I can't be certain.

**Wow I thought the creatures of the Capitol were only capable of praise when it came to the ****_beautiful Odair_****.**

Banishing the sarcastic tone that accompanied my thoughts, I decide I could go for some food right about now.

"Well I'm starving!" My eyes scan the various foreign dishes, "Uh, one question though. What the fuck am I eating?"

Callidora gasps, "Jacqueline! Please refrain from using such unladylike language."

"Uh, alright… I guess I could try," I mumble slightly surprised, it's never been a problem before now.

"Excellent! Now what you see here is an assortment of different dishes from the Capitol, most of which are very common. You see there-" she points to a small bird that with an orange sauce drizzled over it, "that is quail with an excellent sauce made of oranges, lemon, and a few other things I didn't take the time to remember. It's absolutely delicious though, you really should try it. Oh and there-" she points to an odd pink liquid, "that my dearie, is raspberry soup! Absolutely delightful if I may say so myself. And that-" Callidora is about to continue when Finnick holds up a hand to silence her.

"Thank you Callie, but I think she'll figure out what she likes on her own. Now that she knows all of it is _absolutely_ edible." Finnick's plate is already piled high with various types of food, seeing as he's eaten the food before I take portions from a few of the dishes residing on his plate along with the two Callidora pointed out. For the better part of the meal all that can be heard is Callidora's voice addressing the various topics she finds important about the Capitol, I tune her out somewhere between the various parties and latest fashion trends. Near the end of the meal I notice that Murrow hasn't said anything since Finnick's little prank, I look up from my quail at the boy sitting across from me. A frown is plastered on his handsome face as he picks at the lamb and plum stew in front of him, I can make out a glint of gold under his jacket.

**That must be Rebecca's broach; I wonder how she's holding up… she was pretty bad at the reaping.**

His sapphire eyes meet mine; they seem to see right through me and I'm tempted to look away. However I keep my eye's level with his, I instantly hate that look in his eyes.

**Were they always this sad?**

He seemed so strong from what I saw of him back in Four; I can't remember a time when he didn't look either determined or happy, apart from the last moments of the reaping of course.

'Be strong,' I mouth when Finnick and Callidora aren't looking; Mag's has long since passed out with her head propped up by her hand. Murrow nods slowly before turning back to his dinner.

**Maybe he just needs some time to clear his head...Still I should keep an eye on him.**

* * *

Soon after everyone finishes dinner, Callidora ushers us all into the next car over. The car is furnished with a set of chairs and a plush couch surrounding a large screen, we all pile into seats. I'm seated in between Murrow and Mags, Finnick takes the chair beside Mags and Callidora is in the chair next to Murrow. No more than a moment after she sits down the anthem fills the room, the Capitol's seal spanning across the screen. The reapings are shown in chronological order, starting with District One and working its way up to Twelve. I'm mainly focused on the first two Districts, being career Districts they will most likely be the main threat. We could always team up with them seeing as we are technically careers as well, but I have a personal disliking for the tributes of Two; images of a day so long ago flash before my eyes.

**_It's a cool day near the end of September, my eleventh birthday to be exact. I'm standing before my father as he explains why I must learn to first defend myself before I even attempt to attack an opponent. "Learning to block an attack from someone much bigger than you will much more crucial than landing a lot of blows." Being so young I don't understand what he means, yet I still listen; soaking up every syllable like a sponge. Soon he's explaining the difference between knowing when to run and when to attack; he says when it comes down to it, instinct will take over. "Listen to that instinct, it will save you. It is when you second guess your instinct that you hesitate. When you hesitate you give your opponent and opening, and they will always take that. If you give them an opening, they will kill you. Do you understand?" His forest green eyes are hard like that usually are when he's telling me something serious. They seem to pierce my very soul, searching for any uncertainty; and they find it. I know he is going to ask, so I go a head and tell him, my voice still slightly high from childhood._**

**_"But daddy, what if they don't want to hurt me? What if I can trust them?" I'm being naïve; I just don't realize it yet. But I do know I've said something wrong from the way my father's eyes narrow ever so slightly. He won't yell at me though, I don't know the way the world works yet; that fleeting innocence is still there, for now._**

**_"You can't trust them Jacqueline, they will always want to hurt you. Because out there… it's you or them. They have families they need to go home to, but I don't want you to think about that; your job is to do whatever you have to, to come home to me." He seems to hesitate for a split second before continuing, "Did I ever tell you why your mother never came home?"_**

**_I nod enthusiastically because I know this answer, but not the story behind it, "Yes daddy, you said a vicious weasel stopped her." I don't know much about my mother when I think about it, only foggy memories._**

**_He pinches the bridge of his nose as a deep breath escapes his lips, "She hesitated Jackie. She had just gotten to the Cornucopia to grab supplies when she ran into him; he was just a child, only a year older than you are now. He was so small... She couldn't bring herself to take his life, and he killed her. In that moment's hesitation he plunged his knife into her chest, piercing her heart." By the time he finished, his voice had become monotone and I hated it. Looking at it now, I know it was just his way of coping. But back then, I couldn't fathom why he didn't seem to care. Here I was, tears streaming down my face and he just stood there letting the full weight of it sink in. Eventually he had enough of my tears, "Enough Jacqueline, stop crying." It took me a while, but soon the tears ceased and the only sound coming from me was the occasional sniffle. "Good, now listen. In a year you will take part in the reapings, your name will go in the draw once per year. We will try to get by without the tesserae, you are only to sign up for it if we have no other option. I can't have your name in there any more than it is necessary to survive. You cannot cry anymore, not where they can see you." I follow his gaze to the peacekeepers patrolling the streets, "They are nothing but the Capitol's pets, do you understand? We cannot trust them; you cannot allow them the satisfaction of knowing your pain. We have must strong from now on, alright Trouble?" His eyes are searching me again, but this time they find no uncertainty; I understand what I have to do._**

* * *

There's a sharp pain in my side, bringing me back to the present. I glare at Murrow and hiss under my breath "What?"

He merely gestures towards the screen as the first tribute appears; a tall woman with flowing blond hair. There's a close up of her face, tanned skin and bright emerald eyes; there is no denying that she is beautiful. I can't help but wonder how far her looks will get her in these games, surely she'll get sponsors quickly if she plays her cards right; but will that be enough?

**Don't forget she's from District One, she is not to be taken lightly.**

The male tribute from One is far from beautiful. While tall, he's also skinny for a career but I'm certain he will be trouble. With his short light brown hair and tiny calculating eyes, he reminds me of an otter.

Next up is the female from Two, if it weren't for that vicious look in her eyes and that she's from Two, I would have written her off right then and there. She's doesn't look any older than fifteen; dark brown hair and eyes with freckles covering her face. She's small for a career, maybe 5'4" at the most; however I know she'll be just as deadly as any other career in the arena. I take an immediate disliking to her that I blame on the boy who killed my mother**.**

Before the district representative can finish reading out the boy's name on the slip, a monstrous boy lunges forward to volunteer. They do a close up of him, his muscles are poorly hidden beneath his dress shirt, I'm dreading facing him in the arena.

**I'm going to have to keep an eye on him.**

While lighter than Murrow's sapphire eyes, his eyes share much of the same determination in them, along with something else I can't quite place yet. With his striking features and messy blond hair; I can't help but notice he's quite handsome, as much as I loathe admitting it. Out of all the careers he is by far the most intimidating, there is no doubt in my mind that he will make it to the top five; possibly even win.

**I can't let that happen though... and that very well might be the death of me.**

The tributes from Three are small and I soon forget their names, the girl has brown hair and a faraway look in her eyes, the boy is small with short black hair, there is nothing memorable about them.

**Here we go…**

I can physically feel the tension in the air as the screen changes to the image of our District's reaping. While Callidora seems pleased with her appearance, going on about how she just loves her new hair color apposed to last years pink; Murrow's and my eyes are fixed on the screen for a different reason. It's almost painful reliving those moments now that the shock has dissipated. I'm searching for anything that our opponents could use against us, Murrow's eyes are once again fixated on his sister. There is a close up of Murrow's face as Rebecca's scream resounds through the speakers. I steal a quick glance at the boy beside me, his expression mirrors that of the one on-screen, jaw clenched tightly and determined if not slightly pained blue eyes; something I couldn't see from my place in the crowd. Almost immediately after they switch to a close up of the girl clinging to me, my expression turns from confused to unreadable in an instant.

**Good, I don't want to give them anything to feed off of.**

It doesn't take them long for them to skip to when Rebecca's name is called, another close up of us. My relief is clear for a moment until the woman's sobs cut through the silence. Once the realization hits, my brows knit together and I whisper something to Rebecca.

**Here it comes.**

"Rebecca Al-" Callidora's face screams irritation at the interruption.

_"I volunteer!" _

I'm once again grateful that my voice didn't betray me; however I'm surprised that they neglected to cut out Murrow's bold 'thank you'.

**Great, they're going to eat that up for sure.**

The tributes following don't make any lasting impressions aside from a select few. A slender girl from District Five with pointed features and fiery red hair, she doesn't seem like much, but there's something about her that makes me take a second look. A massive boy from District Eleven who might be even larger than the boy from Two, his golden brown eyes having an almost wild look to them. An appallingly small girl from the same district as the massive boy, with big doe like eyes; there is no volunteer to take her place. The last one to catch my eye is a girl from Twelve who volunteers for her younger sister, but that isn't what makes me remember her. No, it's the fact that she has the same determined look in her eyes that Murrow did, she has to come back to her sister regardless of the consequences. But I will not allow that, as much as I hate myself for thinking it.

**I might have to kill her if it comes down to it. I will keep my promise to my father; and send Murrow back to his sister ****_alive_****.**

I go through the tributes in my mind, wondering whose life I will be forced to take; and in turn, who will be the death of me.

**Eight tributes to remember; Glimmer, Marvel, Clove, Cato, the girl from Five whose name I didn't catch, Rue if only to make sure she gets through the Cornucopia's bloodbath, Thresh, and Katniss. Will I be able to keep Murrow alive?**

I stare at the blank screen for a moment before rising from my seat; I can't be here any longer. The possibility of one of us not making it out alive; namely Murrow, threatens to bring my dinner up. I just want to get some much-needed sleep before I'm thrown to the sharks tomorrow.

"Where are you going?" Murrow's voice stops me; I look down at him as I stifle a yawn.

"I'm exhausted and I'm going to bed, got a problem with that?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

** I swear to God, if you tell me to stay...**

"Yeah so am I, but shouldn't we go over some sort of strategy first?" Unfortunately he does have a point, and I silently curse myself for not thinking of that. I'm about to plop back down on the couch when Finnick's voice interrupts me.

"No we'll go over it tomorrow; we won't reach the Capitol until noon. Anyway, I'm going to need tonight to think up our strategy. Meet me here right after breakfast, got it?" I nod once before making my way though the car door, just as its sliding shut I see Finnick scoop up Mags, she had passed out shortly after District Five's tributes were introduced. It's clear that he would have no trouble coming up with a strategy now.

**In fact I'd be surprised if he doesn't already have one. After all you never really leave the games; however Mags isn't exactly radiating youth, and she needs sleep more than any of us.**

A smile slips over my lips when I think about how different he is around his old mentor.

**Maybe he isn't as horrible a person as he lets on.**

It seems to take an eternity before I'm in front of the door leading into my room, I push the door open and flop down on the bed; not even bothering to remove my clothes. I want nothing more than to wake up to find this has been nothing more than a horrible  
nightmare. I'm laying on the bed, staring out at the night sky when I hear the fall of footsteps down the hall, followed closely by the click of a door as it closes.

**That's right; Murrow's room is in his car too... maybe I should have waited for him.**

The faces of the boys from Two and Eleven flash across my vision, and I wonder what I'd be able to do against one of them.

**Yeah I've trained for the games since I was eleven, but I'm still just a girl from District Four. I'm not even that big 5'7" and only 130 pounds; I'm dwarfed in comparison to the 6'5" giant from Eleven.**

"Please, if there is a God anywhere out there; don't let me die until Murrow's back home in Four with his sister...she'll turn out like Annie Cresta if you don't." Maybe its pathetic pleading with someone who has long since abandoned Panem, but I have to at least try.

**Just this one time, don't let me down.**

* * *

**AN: So this one didn't turn out quite how I would have likes. I hope it's just me being hard on myself and that it was good enough to satisfy you for now. However I'm trying to keep myself on a deadline, I did finish this last night, but I wanted to edit it first before posting. Turns out I was a little too happy to have finished editing before work; I forgot to leave an author's note. So sorry about the update, I promise it won't happen again. I have the day off Friday so I should have at least one more chapter up by then, hopefully two if I have the time. The next chapter she will be arriving in the Capitol, so please enjoy.**

**Until next time,**

**Jacqueline.**


	3. Chapter Three: If You Jump, I Jump

Chapter Three

The waves lap against the boat, threatening pull me back into that wretched dreamland. I breathe in deeply, the salty air filling my lungs; reminding myself that I am far away from the Capitol.

**It all seemed so real…**

I open my eyes, taking in the ocean around me. I would be completely alone if it weren't for the gulls to my right. Their cries aren't too bad though; the cliff housing their nesting grounds is a good fifty feet away, morphing the sound into something distant almost comforting. I'd take them over the Capitol creatures any day.

**Then why do I have this feeling of unease? I'm in my sanctuary, I'm safe here.**

I repeat that line over and over in my mind, trying to keep the dread swelling in me at bay; it's virtually ineffective. I can feel the fear clawing at my innards, making me want to squirm from discomfort. I can't shake the feeling of being watched.

"…I'm safe here." I whisper and squeeze my eyes shut, as if that method would prove to be more effective. I'm only fooling myself as the gentle lull of the boat increases into a vicious rocking.

**Of course… The calm before the storm.**

I force my eyes open dreading what I'll find on the other side of those lids. I take a sharp intake of breath, the sky has transformed from its tranquil pale blue to an eerie blue-green that is almost completely swallowed up by black clouds. My eyes widen and a curse slips past my lips.

**This isn't good, this isn't good at all. I need to get back to shore ****_now_****.**

I shoot towards the anchor, slipping slightly as rain pounds the deck.

**How long have those clouds been rolling in for? I'm such an idiot for not noticing them sooner, father would be ashamed.**

I reach the rope attached to the anchor, pulling on it with all my might; I haven't had this much trouble since I started accompanying my father on his fishing trips after grandparents died.

"Why the **fuck** wont you budge?" I shout angrily at the rope in my hands. If I didn't get that anchor up soon, it would be nearly impossible to navigate through the sharp rocks that litter the waters along District Four's coast.

**I'll have to cut it loose, damn it father is going to have my head for this!**

Anchors weren't cheap; it would cost a year's worth of our earnings _combined_ to afford another one, and that's_ if_ we had a good season.

I reach for the knife strapped to my belt and bring the serrated area of the blade to the thick rope. The gulls erupt into a chorus of screams immediately after I start sawing.

**What's gotten into them? **

I whip my head towards the cliff looming overhead, squinting through the rain assaulting my eyes.

"What the hell is that?" I mumble, wiping the rain from my eyes. There's a woman standing among the screaming birds; she would have been perfectly camouflaged if it weren't for her dark hair blowing wildly in the raging wind. She looks like a ghost; her skin is pale against the paper white gown clinging to her drenched body. There is something familiar about her, I can't quite place it but I want to go to her. She's dangerously close to the edge, terror swells in my chest as the wind picks up.

**Does she mean to jump?**

The realization hits me like a wave, or maybe I have been hit by one and am only now coming to my senses; there's no other explanation for her being there, especially in this downpour. I want to scream at her but my voice wont work, and I'm too far away to do anything here. Picking up the rope once more I saw vigorously at the line, for the first time in my life wishing our ropes weren't nearly so strong. It snaps, sending the fishing boat rocking dangerously as it is assaulted by a large wave. I'm drenched to the bone as I stumble to the wheel, almost being washed off the boat by another massive wave. I stop the boat twenty feet from the cliff, not daring to go any closer in fear of the rocks hidden beneath the water's dark surface. I look back up at the woman; she's still there thankfully as I rush to the side of the boat.

**What the fuck is she thinking!?**

Her head turns in my direction, our dark eyes meet for a split second; and then she takes her last step forward.

"No!" My scream comes out hoarse; I've found my voice too late. I don't know why I did it, but as she's falling I reach out to her; I wasn't aware of how far I was leaning off the side of the boat until another wave hits the tiny boat and I'm swallowed up by the sea. I thrash wildly trying to make it back to the surface, every time I break its surface I'm dragged under by another wave. The water is much colder than ever before; like a thousand needles stabbing my skin. I want to cry out, it hurts so badly. It's becoming harder and harder to move, my limbs feel as though they weigh a ton.

**Was the water always this heavy?**

I no longer know which way is up, my senses seem to have abandoned me. My lungs feel as though they're about to explode. I've lost track of how like I've been under; I'm disorientated and my will to fight is leaving me as the water creeps into my nostrils like sludge, replacing what little air I had left.

**This is it; I'm going to die here.**

When the thought sinks in, I find I'm surprisingly okay with it. The realization disgusts me, how far I must have fallen to give in so easily; what sort of career am I?

**Better here than out there in the games.**

I think of the arena, and how the Tributes are pitted against each other for the Capitol's amusement, like the gladiators of old. There is nothing glorious about it; we are merely lambs for the slaughter.

**Those creatures can't have me now.**

A small smile creeps its way to my lips.

**Nothing can hurt me now… maybe this is how it was meant to be.**

* * *

I feel something wrap around my ankle, I must have drifted into a cluster of seaweed. Only sea weed doesn't grip you like this, no this is something else. My smile vanishes and I force my heavy eyes open. I'm face to face with the woman from the cliff. I attempt to break away from her; however my limbs are no longer responsive aside from the pathetic twitch of my fingers. I cannot rip my eyes away from hers now that her features are so clear; I wish the water would fill my lungs faster. Her dark brown eyes are lifeless, haunting even. I was right about her being a ghost, this woman died a long time ago. Black dots begin to cover my vision; the last thing I see before I'm plunged into the abyss is a smile creeping over my mother's pale lips; the same smile she wore at her reaping.

I shoot up into a sitting position nearly falling off the bed in the process. I'm drenched in sweat and my heart pounds frantically in my chest; I'm alive and I don't know if I feel relieved or cheated. A flashback of my nightmare assaults my mind; dead eyes and a haunting smile. I'm panting heavily as I look around the plush room frantically for the dripping corpse.

**What the fuck was that about? I never see her like that…**

Whenever I would dream of my mother, it would always be pleasant. A memory I think, I can't always tell the difference between the legitimate memories and the figments of my imagination; sometimes they're so foggy, but other times they're too vibrant, too perfect. This is the first nightmare I had with her in it, and I desperately hope it is the last.

Raising a shaken hand to the covers tangled around my legs, I rip them off and slide my legs off the edge of the bed. Flinching at the cool surface beneath my feet, I would usually welcome the feeling, but now it only brings me unease. I push the thought of having a shower from my mind, in a few hours I'll meet my prep team who will surely scrub me to the bone, and I'm not sure if I'm up to the feeling of water pelting my skin just yet. After a quick look at the clothes I'm wearing, I pull the blouse off my skin followed soon after by the dark pants; I'm not sure what Callidora would do to me if I wore something so wrinkled and soaked in sweat and I have no intention of finding out.

Instead I hesitantly scoop up my reaping dress, refusing to go through that ridiculous closet.

* * *

As I walk down the hall towards the food car, I try to tame my wild hair; I've gotten the majority of the tangles out with my fingers but it's still sticking up at odd angles in places. I give up with an exasperated breath as I come to the door.

**Hopefully Callidora is off doing her makeup or something…**

The door opens and I conclude that I have the worst possible luck in the world.

"Ah there you are! I was just about to come fetch you. My, my, my! What on earth have you done to your hair? Here come with me." Callidora's voice is as shrill as ever when she grabs my wrist and leads me to an empty chair. Murrow is glaring slightly at the loud woman; he looks as if he's debating stuffing the half eaten apple in his hand down her throat.

**Someone's clearly not a morning person.**

Callidora places both hands on my shoulders and turns me around to face her, she lets out a sound I interpret as irritation before she pushes me into the chair.

**Then again, I can't say I blame him…**

I'm about to ask her what the hell she's doing when she produces a rather large brush from her spring green purse.

"Can't have you looking like that for the Capitol now can we?" Callidora explains.

**I really hate the sound of her voice.**

"No, I guess not." I force a smile while trying not to sound too sarcastic. I'm not sure why it matters, but I figure it's better to humor her. This seems to please her; perhaps she believes she's won some sort of victory.

**How barbaric we must be if we need the guidance of these wretched creatures.**

The thought of it is almost comical, almost but not quite. My eyes narrow at the woman before me, she doesn't notice; her simple mind is dedicated wholly to the task of taming my wild hair. I'm not sure if I genially hate her as a person, or I it is just a generalized feeling towards the Capitol; so I settle on simply disliking her for the time being.

**Apparently I'm deemed presentable, either that or she gave up… my bet is on the later.**

"Well, well, well. There you are, almost beautiful… if only you weren't so dirty. You know, I always thought the tributes from your district would be the cleanest, what with all that water and all. Maybe if you win you'll be able to buy soap for everyone! Wouldn't that be splendid? It would certainly make it easier for the prep team for the future tributes of Four. Yes well I've decided, if you win, as a humble reward for everything that I've done for you, you will buy soap for everyone! Now that would be something…" Callidora's voice trailed of dreamily as she drops her hair brush in a nearby trashcan, I'm slightly offended. I know I shouldn't be taking anything that comes out of this thing's mouth to heart but it's pretty difficult when some she-devil call's you and your entire district filthy like she's commenting on the weather.

**I definitely hate this bitch.**

I can feel my anger bubbling like a live volcano, I want to scream at her, attack her, anything…hell, I would love to throw her into the games and see how 'civilized' she really is. I open my mouth to say something but I catch Murrow's sapphire eyes from across the room, he's waiting for my reaction. I'm not sure how I feel about him reading into me, so I do the only thing I can think of. I bite my tongue and wash all emotion from my face, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

**'I hear the bottom of the ocean is nice this time of year'. Oh how I would love to add in that.**

It's lacking the sting that I would have preferred, but in this circumstance getting her out of my sight is sufficient. I've decided to exact my revenge in a more subtle and personal way, just between me and her.

**She isn't as stupid as I thought.**

I conclude as she purses her lips and exits the car with a scowl.

"Good riddance." I mumble glaring daggers at the door. A light chuckling nose can be heard from the table, I raise my eyebrow suspiciously at the brunette.

"What's so funny?" I'm already on edge from my dream and that vile woman, making my question come out more akin to a demand.

"Woaah take it easy, I just thought it was funny is all...I'm surprised that you didn't lose it on her, it looked like you were about to." Murrow's lips are pulled up into a sort of crooked grin, I haven't seen him smile like that before; I like it. He seems to be more awake than before as he brings a white mug to his lips. I must have been eyeing it because he holds it out to me, "A little pick-me-up, Odair suggested it… he said we're better off drinking this rather than take the pills we'll be offered in the Capitol." It has a strong aroma, I haven't tasted it yet but the dark almost black liquid seems repulsive. I can hear Murrow's melodic laugh under his breath, why is it soothing? Perhaps because it's familiar, back when we were in school I'd hear his laugh traveling down the hall or from across the classroom. He always seemed so carefree back then, not anything like man I've grown accustomed to; I find myself wishing I would have gotten to know him and his sister when I had the chance, before the games. Instead I pushed everyone out and focused solely on work and my father's teachings.

**This must really work to get him in such a good mood.**

I take the mug from his hand, it's warm and I find that I just want to hold it for its warmth alone.

"Are you going to drink it or just leach all its warmth?" His tone is playful, so I don't take offense to the reference. Instead I just smile, thankful for the change of atmosphere from just a few moments ago.

"Shut up and let me try it," I eye him as I bring the steamy liquid to my mouth; I don't know how hot it is so I settle for just a sip and just about spit it out. He bursts out laughing; this is the most disgusting thing I've ever tried. It's horribly bitter, and it doesn't take me long to decided it would be improved greatly by a bowl of Finnick's sugar cubes. I set the mug down on the table, it's once soothing warmth no longer welcome. "Urg! How can you drink that shit?"

Murrow shakes his head at me and picks his mug back up, "It isn't shit Jacqueline, its coffee."

"Are you sure you haven't burnt off your taste buds?" My nose wrinkles up as I catch a whiff of it's sent.

"Well I like it," He avoids my eyes as he takes another sip.

"You're crazy…" I mumble sliding into the chair across from him, understanding why he needed the 'pick-me-up' in the first place; his eyes are slightly bloodshot, a hint of dark circles standing out like a sore thumb against his brilliant eyes.

**It looks like he had a rough night too.**

I'm sure I don't look any better myself so I avoid commenting on it, instead I occupy myself by piling food on an empty plate.

"So have you thought about a strategy yet?" The detached tone in Murrow's voice distracts me from my task, there's no avoiding it any longer so I carefully lay my plate down before looking at him. I wish I hadn't; his normally bright eyes are dull and that crooked smirk I liked so much has been replaced by a frown.

"No, I haven't…" I can't look him in the eye. Instead my eyes settling on a glistening silver knife beside me, I pick it up running it's smooth surface between my fingers. It's obvious I'm lying, how could I keep a straight face when he looks so pathetic, so much like his sister.

**I can't very well tell him what I'm planning.**

"Don't lie to me Jacqueline…It's obvious you have, so just tell me. Or are you planning the best way to execute me?" His voice is dripping with venom, I can't think of a time when I've ever been intimidated by Murrow Alta, back in school he paled in comparison to the other male career's with their rippling muscle; he was never what I would consider small, his muscle was more condensed giving him a more lean build. But in that moment I swear I can physically feel his anger radiating off him like a flame, I find myself wishing for a way out. I advert my eyes from my silverware, looking cautiously around the room before my eyes land on the man before me. Murrow's eyes narrow dangerously at me, but it's not his glare that shatters my resolve, it's the pain from betrayal lurking within those deep pools.

**Those eyes really are going to be the death of me**.

"Idiot…I'm not going to kill you…" It comes out as a whisper, not unlike his thank you at our reaping but I'm sure he's heard me from the way his glare falters slightly. He doesn't say anything so I continue, "How could I kill you after saving your sister's life? Do you really think I'm that cruel?" I hold my free hand up to silence him when he goes to object. His eyes seem to pierce my very soul, I shift slightly under the intensity of his stare; I'm afraid of what he'll see so I explain further. "Truth be told, I have thought about it slightly, the other tributes I mean. I think we should stick together, you know be allies until one of use dies in the arena… after all it'll be a lot easier to survive if we have each other's back." I try to make it sound like that's the extent of my intentions, like I'm not planning on dying in there and it seems to work for now at least.

**I'm not sure how he would take that… he doesn't seem like the selfish type, but his sister is top priority. I wonder what he's willing to do to get back to her, at least I can be sure to have his complete coöperation whither he realizes my intentions or not.**

Murrow's brows are knit together as he processes my proposal, considering every possible way it could be a trap. Eventually those piercing blue eyes meet my brown orbs and he nods, that crooked grin playing at his lips as relief washes over him.

**I wonder how long it will take for him to turn on me...If it comes down to it will he keep to his part of the bargain and try to save me, or will he throw me to the sharks the first chance he gets? I can't expect him to put his life on the line for me, but will he at least keep me alive long enough to ensure his victory?**

Murrow's hand in front of my face pulls me from my thoughts, my eyes widen for a moment before I understand what his intentions are and I can't help but smile at how childish this seems. Alliances mean next to nothing in the games, least of all a handshake; but none the less I grasp his hand firmly in mine to seal the deal. I lock eyes with him and once more I feel myself becoming lost in them. Not because I have some unspoken love for the man who's hand now engulfs mine, it's because they remind me of home; a deep blue both soothing and fierce.

**For both our sake, I hope his resolve doesn't falter... I need him to be as unrelenting as the sea if we're going to pull this off.**

Between my thoughts and his eyes I can hardly register that he's started speaking until he gives my hand a comforting squeeze. I suppose he mistook my silence for distress after all I'm supposed to be worried about my own neck, not his.

"Hey... Don't look so terrified, you're making me nervous." His melodic laugh has a slight edge to it that he can't quite cover up. He releases my hand as he pushes himself away from the table; the sound of the chair legs scraping out from under the table seems louder than normal. My brows knit together as I pick my utensils up, poking at the food that I've lost interest in all together.

**Do I really look so weak?**

I tense as I feel a hand rest softly on my shoulder; I look up at Murrow suppressing the growing need to shrug his hand off. I don't want to be taken for some defenseless child, it worked for a Victor from Seven named Johanna and it sure as hell won't work a second time. However when he looks at me it isn't pity I see in his eyes that would surely send me over the edge, I can't decipher what emotion is swirling around in those orbs. He doesn't laugh at my confusion like I expected, instead I catch a glimpse of the determined boy from the reaping.

"We're allies remember? That means you've got my back right?" His voice is calm; I'm not sure why he feels the need to point out the obvious like I'm nothing but a simpleton. Then I remember Rebecca, his sister.

**Oh, of course. This is just how he's used to comforting someone, only I'm not in any need of his comfort.**

However I can't jeopardize our little alliance, so I simply nod and wait for him to get to the point.

"That goes both ways... You don't have to worry so much I've got your back. No one is going to hurt you if I can help it..." He seems to have realized how ridiculous that statement sounded because he let out a short laugh before correcting himself, "well until we're both in the last five alright?"

I don't want to hurt his pride by telling him I don't need his protection, I know he means well; and for all I know he may end up prolonging my expiration date.

**Maybe he doesn't realize how insulting that actually is... then again, he does live with his sister. He must be accustomed to women being defenseless, well he's in for a rude awakening if he continues to regard me this way in the arena.**

"Alright," I try my best to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.

**I need to work on that...**

I expect him to leave now to go find Finnick while I finish picking at my food, instead he stares at me for a moment; the emotion that flashes across his features is so brief that I cannot catch it's meaning. As I'm about to question him he leans in causing my body to go completely ridged.

"What..." My voice trails off when his forehead rests against mine, his breath tickling my reddening face.

"I'll protect you, I promise... I owe you that much, considering you saved my sister from this madness." His voice is but a whisper yet it thunders through my mind, I'm frozen in place unable to think or react aside from my heated cheeks. I've never been this close to someone before, I'm petrified of what might happen if I move so much as an inch. After what seems like ages I finally manage to find my voice.

"What do you mean?" My voice doesn't betray me like my heated face, it comes out calm and almost defiant; I'm thankful that Murrow's eyes are closed, at least I sound unfazed. Unfortunately as I declared before, I have the worst luck in the world. I inwardly curse as I feel Murrow's brow crease, a weary growl escaping his throat. His eyelids open slowly, almost reluctantly and then sapphire eyes pierce into my very soul. He hasn't spoken in what feels like an eternity, the knots in my stomach tighten by the second and I'm sure he's already taken noticed of my flushed face. We stay like that for a moment, neither one of us daring to move; me out of something akin to fear while he remains unreadable as the ever changing tide.

His silky voice breaks the silence, "Let's just say... If you jump, I jump."

**'If you jump, I jump'? What the hell is that supposed to mean?**

Then it hits me like the wave from my nightmare, my eyes widen in realization and my jaw drops slightly.

**He knows. How the hell did he figure it out? And more importantly, why the fuck does it matter what decisions I make if it benefits him? I hardly matters if I'm willing or not in this situation.**

"Murrow, don't you fucking dare. I've made up my mind, the least you can do is comply." My voice is raising with every syllable, I've never been good at controlling my temper and I most certainly cannot have him mess things up because of some misplaced sense of responsibility.

**I'm the one with the bleeding heart, not him. It's his job to make it out alive, nothing more.**

"The least I can do?" Murrow's eyes drop slightly to my lips for a moment before he straightens himself up, giving my shoulder one last squeeze before breaking contact between us. My eyes narrow dangerously at him daring him to try to break my resolve, it was bad enough that he figured out this much on his own. Even with the little bit I let slip out earlier he didn't seem to have any trouble filling in the missing pieces. Shaking his head, a crooked grin spreading across his features; as if I had just tried convincing him mutts were after us and coming to get us as we spoke.

"Unfortunately for you, I've never been an underachiever... So you see, 'the least I can do' simply isn't an option Jacqueline." Murrow's voice mirroring the defiant glint in his eyes, his smirk never faltering as he exited the car in the direction Finnick was sure to be waiting.

** Most likely devouring a bowl of sugar cubes…**

I sit there for a moment letting the reality of what I had done sink in.

**Urg! I can't believe how stupid I was. How the fuck am I supposed to pull this off with him watching my every move like that?**

"Son of a bitch!" I fling the knife still clutched in my hand at the spot where Murrow disappeared, lodging it deep into the wood with a dull _thunk._

**What the hell is his problem!? Can't he just accept my damn help instead of being so bloody proud?! Why does it matter if I die or not? I don't have a obligations like he does, I'm not the one with the unhinged sister!**

I force myself to take a deep breath before slowly letting it out, "Breathe Jackie, calm down, and remember what father taught you."

**"Control that anger of yours! That is nothing but a weakness if you cannot harness it and you can be sure that your opponent will use it against you. You must keep a level head, the only thing separating us from beasts is our ability to think and reason. Do not take that for granted. Yes you must trust your instinct when there is no time for a strategy, however it is crucial to never go into a fight blind; you must see everything!" My father's words are as unrelenting as his constant string of attacks, there is no time for me to argue only act; and because I spent precious time letting my temper flare I am now on my back struggling for breath. I'm sure he's going to scold me yet when he crouches down beside me I'm not met by harsh words, only a gentle pat on my cheek. My father's deep laugh reverberates through the air at my confused expression "Control and harness that temper of yours Jacqueline, and maybe next time I'll be the one knocked down and gasping like a fish out of water."**

The feeling of nostalgia is overwhelming as I stare blankly at the knife lodged in the door; I shake my head in an attempt to clear my head.

"I'm being stupid, this changes nothing. I will still do everything in my power to ensure his survival. He will make it through this not me. Nothing he can do or say will change that." I can't stop the laugh from escaping my lips.

**How foolish I was for reacting so openly, there's no way I can pull this off if I keep losing control of my temper. Especially in the games, my father would be so ashamed if I lost my grip and disregarded all of our hard work.**

I push myself out from the table and make my way over to the knife lodged in the door, a smirk spreads across my features as my hand wraps around the hilt.

**So he's going to 'protect me' from the big bad tributes. **

"My hero," I breathe out dramatically, sarcasm laced in with every syllable. A laugh escapes my lips and I yank on the knife out of the door, if anyone were watching there is no doubt in my mind they would write me off as a complete lunatic.

"Sorry about your luck Murrow Alta, but two can play at that game."

* * *

HI! Thank you so much for putting up with how late this chapter is; well I hope you forgive me. I won't be able to update as frequently as I originally planned. I'm very busy with work and school now, plus my computer was down for a week. Updates should come more often once I'm at the games, and around the month of July. I know I made a Titanic reference, but I couldn't help it, it just fit in so perfectly, please forgive me and try to enjoy it as much as I chapter didn't turn out how I would have liked but I can't continue to keep it hostage in my documents, I would like some feedback on this one as well as your thoughts on anything to do with the story. I'm not saying I won't publish another chapter until I get more reviews, that would just be cruel. What I am trying to say is that your reviews do help motivate me (actually it was this one reader's review that pushed me past my mild case of writers block and to make time to write this one up), your input means a lot to me J! Remember you don't even need to have an account to review… . just saying. Also if you know anyone who might be interested in this story feel free to send them my way, I will also be publishing a few other stories unrelated to the hunger games. Anyways enough of that! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks again for putting up with me.

x-Jacqueline-x


	4. Chapter Four: Alliances

AN: I don't normally place comments at the beginning of my chapters, however I read through my earlier chapters to refresh my memory before I started this chapter. To say the least I was applauded by the number of mistakes I made. They were mainly mistakes centered on grammar that I'll go through and fix at a later date. I also wasn't happy what so ever with the last chapter, I believe I could have done much better with the ending segment between Murrow and Jacqueline. I will be trying harder to improve on the scenarios where they will be interacting. Please give me your feed back, the good and the bad; I would appreciate either one or both. Just let me know how I'm doing alright?

P.S: I'm out of school now so updates should become more frequent.

Chapter Four

Alliance

I take my time walking down the hall to the car where the handsome Finnick Odair and recently infuriating Murrow Alta will surely be waiting. There is no doubt in my mind that Murrow has already brought my plan to Finnick's attention, I wonder what his thoughts on the subject are; either way there is nothing he can say or do to diverge me from my predetermined path.

**Still I hope he'll support me on this, I'll need a mentor's help if I'm to be successful.**

I take this time to go over my plan, I will spend the last hour I have left on this train refining both the strategy for Murrow and I as allies and more importantly my course of action from here on out. I start with what I know: Murrow will not try to kill me in the beginning, I will be safe around him until the weakest tributes are weeded out, as far as I know he has no intention of letting me make a martyr out of myself. As soon as I step foot off this train I will have to make sure both of us are conscious of our every move and the ripple effect they may cause, as much as we might despise the Capitol we will need it's citizen's favor to receive any help we may need in the game to stay alive; especially if one of us needs medical help in the later stages of the game. Perhaps the most important realization is that any one of the other tributes may be the one to kill me, not exclusively the one's I've already deemed as major threats.

**_"…Or are you planning the best way to execute me?" _**

His accusation haunts me like a nightmare. My eyes narrow dangerously as I recall the harshness in his voice, almost mirroring the glare he directed at me just minutes ago.

**I can't say I blame him for assuming that, after all that is why we are here… and he did expel the possibility rather quickly.**

I come to a stop at the door to the next car where Finnick and Murrow are surely waiting behind.

**I should be grateful for that, right?**

I pause with my hand on the door knob, unease pulling at my chest.

**Maybe he didn't write me off just yet? **

I wet my lips, resulting in me biting them as the possibility sinks in.

**Maybe I shouldn't trust him just yet? I don't know that much about him… perhaps this is a trap.**

I rack my brain for any indication that might prove this new theory.

**"Let's just say… if you jump, I jump." **

I shake my head to expel those words from my head, not trusting the swelling in my chest.

**No… I don't think he's that cruel…**

I attempt to stamp out the warning flares going off in my mind; this is not a good way to start an alliance.

**Big blue eyes and a pale hand covering quivering lips.**

"Rebecca…" I whisper and rest my head against the door. I feel as though I'm back in my nightmare, slowly sinking to the bottom of the sea as its cool waters fill my lungs.

**How could I forget, this has nothing to do with me. He has to get back to her regardless of the consequences. This isn't a trip to the beach; this is a fucking slaughter. It's me or him, and I can sure as hell be sure that it's been him this entire time. How naïve of me.**

A hollow laugh escapes my lips when I straighten up and turn the knob.

**Well at least he isn't stupid; maybe he'll stand a chance when I'm gone. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he was the one washing my blood from his hands. **

The door swings open soundlessly and I suppress a snort.

**Of course they don't have creaky doors in the Capitol**.

Finnick is the first to notice me; his expression appears grim for a split second before he covers up his unease with one of his trademark smiles.

**Oh don't look so guilty, I could almost mistake you for having a conscience Mr. Odair. **

Returning the smile halfheartedly I can see Murrow's muscles tense from under his dress shirt.

"Bad timing?" I don't bother to hide the amusement in my voice. My father's not so gentle reminders to trust my instincts surface to my mind and a smirk slowly slips over my lips.

"Never," Finnick said with a wink before motioning to the chair across from him and Murrow. "Why don't you take a seat? We were just discussing the best plan of action."

The soft tapping of my shoes is the only sound heard as I make my way to the chair never taking my eyes off Murrow. I know he can feel it from how rigid he appears; only deepening my smirk.

**I wonder if he's decided on the details of my execution**.

The only time I remove my eyes from Murrow is when I come to my seat across from him, they flicker back and forth between the two men before settling on our copper headed mentor. Finnick gestures to the corner of the room where Mags is curled up on a plush sofa, he then nods towards Murrow.

"Murrow just finished explaining to me that you two have decided to form an alliance, so I will be taking over as both of your mentors…considering the fact that Mags' sleeping schedule can be a little unpredictable." A soft smile washes over his features when he looks at the old woman; I've only ever seen him look at Annie that way. I cannot help but wonder what sort of mentor she would have been nine years ago, there is no doubt in my mind that she must have been exceptional to gain that much favor from her tributes, or at least one of them. I find myself questioning my father's statement about my mentor; perhaps I've been wrong about his character.

**And here I thought he was the Capitol' hollow puppet… Pft, what am I thinking, once shred of compassion doesn't compensate for abandoning ninety-nine percent of his previous tributes.**

His sea green eyes find my own once more, the softness lingering for a moment, "I think it's a wise decision on both of your parts, it will help increase your chances and I will be helping you two throughout the games…" his voice fades off and the next bit comes out in a whisper, "or however much is possible."

Something sparks in the back of my mind and a yearning surges through me to find out what exactly he meant by that statement. I open my mouth to question him but he waves a finger at me, the small smile playing on his features does little to cover up the guilt clear in those sea-green eyes. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. I'm not done yet Jackie, please let me finish, I swear you wont regret it."

**Does everything have to be sexual with this man? **

I raise my brow in annoyance but wait for him to continue nonetheless.

"Good, now as I was saying I fully support your decision to work together, however we are a Career District as well as District One and Two. You can be sure that each one of those first four Tributes will be just as capable as either one of you, we are trained to kill each other and that's exactly what they plan to do. But we can use that to our advantage in more than one way, if you two form an alliance with the other Careers, it will almost guarantee your survival through the bloodbath at the Cornucopia and for as long as they feel you are useful afterwards. Once it is down to the final ten or so you have to kill them, or if you can't that night you must get as far away from them as possible… Alliances only go so far in the Games, understand?" Finnick's sea-green eyes lock on mine with his last statement, confirming my suspicions.

**It's me or him, well that doesn't sound too hard. I already came to terms with this at the reaping.**

I nod and look over at Murrow; his eyes are glued to his hands clasped together in his lap. A pang of remorse shoots through me as I look at him.

**How could I ever resent him for his decision? This was the plan from the start after all, what did I expect? That we could both make it out alive? Ridiculous.**

"So how do we go about making this alliance?" My question lingers in the air for a moment. Finnick's sea foam green eyes are glazed over like he's caught in a memory; most likely one from his time in The Games.

"Before you are put into the Arena, you'll be allowed to train with the other Tributes. A lot of them will have no experience, don't worry as much about them but don't be ignorant of the skills that they do posses. What I need you to do is show glimpses of your skills. Not all of them, but enough to make a lasting impression on Districts One and Two. They need to view you as someone essential to their success, which will go both ways. You'll fare a lot better with them than against them. I'll take care of proposing the alliance to their mentors, though I'm hoping I won't have to go to them." He lets out an exasperated breath as everything goes black, and for a moment I wonder if the train will crash. We're flooded with blinding light seconds later followed by Finnick's smooth voice, "Welcome to the Capitol."

Seconds after the words slip past his lips both Murrow and I are on our feet and plastered to the nearest window. The landscape racing past my eyes is like nothing I've ever seen before. Everything is shiny and new, every colour intensified the whites almost blinding and then I spot it; the vast span of water surrounding the Capitol's grand buildings. I feel my breath hitching in my throat, and I'm hit full force with how much I've actually missed the sea. This of course is nothing in comparison to the vast blues of Four's horizon, but I find myself yearning to be engulfed in the cool liquid below. As the thought of jumping out of a moving train into these waters crosses my mind I quickly expel it and decide its best not to let my mind linger on such absurd thoughts.

I wonder how father is doing… is he making enough money without any other crewmates?

I close my eyes and try to picture his face; rough darkened skin from the long days out at sea. His forest green eyes hardened from a life of hardship that is all too common in Panem. He'd stay out late into the afternoon, later than the other fishermen. Its hard work on your own, I've had to do it when he broken three of his ribs in a fight with one of the peacekeepers; apparently the mutt didn't like the way my father was looking at him.

I open my eyes reluctantly, the rough fingers clasping my shoulder remind me too much of my father at the reaping. I don't want to go to that place in my mind now, not when I will be on display for all of Panem to see within minutes.

"Finnick…" My voice comes out in a whisper the slight increase in pressure is the only indication that he heard me.

"This is it, from here on out it's all about strategy. Win over the crowd and whatever you do, don't write any of those Tributes off as harmless; just look at what happened with Johanna." His tone lightens at the mention of one of his fellow Victors as if he's recalling a pleasant memory.

**The 'poor girl' who slaughtered everyone a few years back…oh yes I remember Johanna Mason vividly.**

He clears his throat and releases my shoulder, "And when you entre the Arena…kill them the first chance you get."

"But what about that little one from Eleven? You can't expect us to kill her." Murrow's disgust is clear, I can't say I blame him but at the same time this is what we are taught to accept from a young age.

**This is just the way things are.**

"Yes, I do." Finnick's voice is calm and even, like he's explaining something to a child.

**We're getting closer, it wont be too much longer until we're in the heart of the city, I'm sure we have quite the crowd waiting for us.**

"But she's just a child!" Murrow screams causing me to jump slightly, catching my full attention I let out a short laugh at the irony of his statement. Soon all eyes are on me and almost simultaneously an image flashes across my vision.

**A scrawny boy no more than eleven or twelve; jet black hair with eyes to match and a face coated with freckles; so small, so fragile, and oh so innocent. **

And then in seconds the image morphs into something cruel.

**Blood droplets mingling in with freckles, excitement flares in his beady eyes. Her lifeless body lay crumpled at his feet; so small, so fragile, and oh so deadly. One can almost forget how crafty weasels can be.**

I shift uncomfortably under Murrow's glare as the image dissipates; the intensity of it is almost suffocating.

"Murrow…" I let my eyes wander to the window for a moment before meeting his eyes, "I know this is hard to accept, but it's her or Rebecca… Yes that girl from Eleven is just a child but that won't stop her from taking a life… Most of the Tributes are children if you think about it-"

"That doesn't make it right Jacqueline!" His eyes are a blaze; I've never seen him so upset before even his resentment towards the Capitol seems paled by this.

**Is this how Rebecca felt when I challenged her? **

"Do you want to abandon your sister?" My question comes out harsher than I would have liked, but it's accomplished what I had intended nonetheless; he's quiet for a moment, which is all the time I need to turn the conversation towards a more pressing matter. "We can talk about this later; it looks like our time has run out." I motion out the window to the surrounding buildings flying past us.

"Yeah…" Murrow's voice sounds distant and I somewhat regret bringing his sister into the argument.

The door to our car opens revealing Callidora; bright turquoise hair and a tight spring green dress accompanied by matching pumps.

**How does this woman move?**

Navy lips slightly puckered as she attempts to hold back her excitement, she reminds me of a fish.

"Hullo, hullo, hullo my dearies! Sooo what do you think? Isn't it breathtaking?" Callidora bats her abnormally long lashes at Murrow.

He cringes at the gesture, "Well-"

"Say no more! Of course you do, why you two are used to nothing but sand and smelly old boats."

I cut her off then "We have buildings you know." I don't bother trying to point out the other flaws in her statement.

**She is a capitol creature after all; they're born ignorant.**

Callidora dismisses me with a flick of her wrist, "Well if you call those buildings, then sure I guess you have buildings… anyway I'm sure your opinion on that subject will change after you've had a good look at this spectacular utopia."

With fists clenched so tightly that my nails nearly pierce the flesh of my palms and red starts to seep into my vision I hiss out "Excuse me? Listen you stuck up little bi-"

"There's no time for idle chatter, we have a schedule you know!" As she cuts me off it takes everything in my power not to launch myself across the room at her.

"Now, let get to it shall we? Good, good. When we arrive at the station you two will follow Finnick and me to the car waiting for us, it will then proceed to take you two to The Recreation Centre where they will make you presentable, beauty will come in time if you're with us long enough. Just look at Finnick over there and tell me I'm wrong!"

"I'm pretty sure he looked the same before you sunk your claws into him." I mumble under my breath receiving a laugh from Finnick.

"What was that dearie?" Callidora's voice comes out shrill, a clear sign of her irritation.

**Someone doesn't like being interrupted… **

I clear my throat and motion for her to continue.

"Well then, as I was saying you will be brought to the Recreation Centre where you will meet your team of stylists, their job is to make sure you are ready for any public appearance; in this case the parade! Exciting isn't it? I always loved this part; I think the outfits are absolutely genius! Now I want both of you to be on your best behavior, remember you are honored guests here in the Capitol and you are expected to act with utmost respect at all times, you are representing your District and more importantly, me!" I chance a glance at my District partner from the corner of my eye and conclude that I'm not the only one who wants this woman's head on a silver platter.

The train lurches for a second and starts to slow, Callidora's lips form into an 'o' before she continues, "Hurry, hurry! To the windows, greet the people of the Capitol, they very well may be the difference between life and death for you, and remember smile and wave my lovelies!" Callidora quickly starts shooing us towards the nearest window, not wanting her to touch me I comply without a second's hesitation.

The sea of people before us reminds me of the corals decorating the reefs along Four, so strange yet beautiful with their odd proportions and intense colours. The association brings a smile to my face and I pretend that I'm not disgusted by their displays of affection.

**Don't they realize they're sending us to our slaughter? Or are they so deluded that they believe this is ethical?**

Nonetheless I smile and wave-like I'm greeting the people of Four, not the culprits of so much misery who are now ecstatic at the sight of us.

**It must be because of Finnick.**

"Are they always like this?" Murrow mutters, his eyes glued to the creatures before him.

Finnick's laugh fills the car which is soon accompanied by a gurgling noise coming from Mags, "They're just happy to see us."

**His smile looks genuine, so why do I feel so uneasy?**

I give Mags a small smile and whisper a 'good morning' that I'm surprised she caught. Turning my attention back to the colourful mass of creatures I decide that I can just ask Finnick about it later instead of thinking up ridiculous assumptions.

"Well I wish they weren't…it's sort of creepy."

I turn my head slightly to look at Murrow Alta. I can't hold back the smile spreading across my face; he looks so horrified by their reaction.

**He's not going to win any sponsors acting like that…**

I let out an exasperated breath and place my hand over his, giving it a tight squeeze. Murrow's sapphire orbs shoot up towards my chestnut ones before they focus on my hand. Afraid that he'll slap my hand away I explain, "Don't worry so much, you'll be fine."

I offer him a small smile and whisper so only he can hear me over the rumbling gears of the train as it pulls to a stop, "If you jump, I jump right?"

A ghost of a smile appears on his lips as his eyes meet my own.

**Maybe those eyes really will be the death of me.**

I release his hand from mine and we follow closely behind Callidora towards the exit, Finnick bringing up the rear.

**Once I step foot off this train my every move will be watched and recorded…**

The unease is building in my stomach as we come to the thin door blocking us from the swarm of Capitol creatures.

**I'll be fine this is nothing I can't handle. Be strong, don't let father down now, not here.**

"Alright dearies, it's time to meet the Capitol! Don't you dare forget to smile, alrighty?" Her voice is so sickly sweet it reminds me of when she asked Murrow who Rebecca was.

I decide to humor her, "Alright Callidora."

"Goodie! Now without further a due!" She raises her gloved hand to a control panel beside the set of automatic doors and presses in a few quick keys that I don't bother taking note of. Stainless steel door slide open and the cheers of the people before us assault my ears. Making our way through this crowd is nothing like the train station in Four. This crowd is much larger and if it weren't for the ropes creating a barrier between them and us I'm sure we'd be swallowed up in seconds, starting with Mr. Odair. I glance over my shoulder for a moment to take in my copper headed mentor, he has his trademark boyish grim plastered on his face accompanied by the occasional wink. As my mentor I decide to learn a little from his actions; I put on the sweetest smile I can manage in this situation and wave happily at anyone whose eye I catch. This is all I can do to disguise the anger bubbling under my skin like lava at the sight of these wretched creatures. It's tiring and I feel sick, however as much as I hate to admit it I will need their help in sending Murrow home victorious.

**Speaking of which, how is he doing?**

I take my eyes off of a particularly strange Capitol creature that closely resembles a butterfly; I haven't decided if he or she is beautiful or grotesque and come to the understanding that I never will. Murrow is only a few feet in front of me, I cannot tell if he's smiling but I think I can make out a small nod of acknowledgement when an exceptionally enthusiastic Capitol creature calls out to him. I don't know how they learned our names in such a short time but it's yet another thing about the Capitol that I find unsettling.

**At least he isn't ignoring them…hell, maybe it'll end up working out for him. I doubt it but whatever his plan is, I have to talk to him about it. We need as many sponsors as possible.**

I try not to let the relief show on my face as we arrive at the car, soon we will be hidden behind another set of doors if only briefly I will savor every moment of relative peace I can get. The driver emerging from the vehicle comes around the front and opens up the doors to the back seat. Callidora is the first to entre and I wait for Murrow to follow her but he only steps aside and motions for me to get in first, raising my eyebrow at him I entre the vehicle being careful to sit across from Callidora.

**There's no way in hell I'm sitting beside that bitch.**

Not soon after I'm in my seat Murrow climbs in as well, taking the empty seat beside me. Finnick ducks his head in first, letting out a snort before he takes the only remaining seat beside Callidora.

**I guess I'm not the only one who feels that way.**

The door shuts behind Finnick and shortly after the driver returns to his place behind the wheel. The car takes off, it's not as fast as the train by any means but it's still a lot quicker than I'm used to moving leaving a heavy sensation in the pit of my stomach. Attempting to settle my stomach I play with the ring around my neck, the memories I have of my mother as familiar to me as the smooth metal between my fingers.

**I wonder how she reacted to all this…would she support my decision?**

I purse my lips and my brows knit together as images of haunting brown eyes and pale skin flash before my eyes; hands gripping me, pulling me under and icy water filling my lungs.

I jump when I feel a hand clasp over my own, breaking me from my thoughts. I snap my head to look at the brunette beside me, his expression is clam and he removes his hand from my own gesturing to the one I have clasped around my ring. "Careful, you'll snap the chain."

I relax slightly letting out a breath releasing my grip on the small object, "Oh…right"

"Thanks for earlier on the train by the way; I don't exactly do well with crowds." Murrow's voice is soft; I like it better this way but I know it won't last.

That shred of innocence I catch a glimpse of every so often will be squashed out in the Games.

"Well you two better get used to it, you're in for a lot more publicity than walking to and from cars at train stations dearies." Callidora pipes up from her spot across from me.

"Well isn't that just lovely" I mutter glancing out the window.

Finnick chuckles lightly before leaning forward and resting his hand on my knee, "You'll do fine. A girl like you, they'll eat you up, trust me." He removes his hand and sits back pointing a finger at Murrow, "You however, aren't exactly endearing right now… we'll need to go over a new approach for you that isn't so…hostile."

**Great I'm not the only one who picked up on that.**

**AN: My apologies is the last half of this chapter wasn't very good I decided it has been way too long since I last updated and I just wrote it all in one shot, six and a half hours later and here you go, new chapter! I know it's my shortest chapter so far but I do plan on putting in a few days work on the next one, I just figured it was better to give you guys something to tie you over for now. Please give me some feed back on this; I really need to know how I'm doing. I want the good and the bad, any opinions you have on it. Anyway I left a long enough note at the top so until next time!**

**-Jacqueline**


	5. Chapter Five: Sirens of the Sea

The Wretched

*****VERY IMPORTANT DO NOT SKIP***** To get myself back into the flow of things I read over my old chapters and noticed a horrifying amount of typos so I went over them once more fixed/ added in new content to all previous chapters.

Some of this wont make sense UNLESS you've read the updates:

-In the Justice Building (Chapter One)-Most important out of all the updates-

-Minor updates and corrections(Chapter Two)

-Minor changes and added material(Chapter Three)

-A few notable changes that will appear in future chapters, added material and corrections (Chapter Four)

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Chapter Five

I've only just arrived at the Recreation Centre a few moments ago, and in that short period of time after stepping foot in the building we were swarmed by a group of Capitol Creatures and Peacekeepers. The Capitol Creatures crowding around Finnick Odair and only paying some attention to this years Tributes from District Four; most of which could speak of nothing else aside from how they were excited for their future appointments with him and how his tributes would fair during this years games. While they were distracted Callidora gave instructions to the Peacekeepers to take Murrow and me to meet with our prep teams. It all happened in a blur but soon Finnick left to a very important meeting with President Snow, Callidora was off to make some last minute preparations, and the Peacekeepers escorted Murrow and I rather roughly down the hallway to our right, where Mages followed in no particular rush.

* * *

The room I now stood in was stark white; much like the death trap of a bathroom on the train. From what I could tell there wasn't much in the room. An odd chair that closely resembles an operating table sits in the far corner of the room. It's reclined at angle where I might be able to fall asleep on it if I were tired enough; though the series of magnifying lenses attached to it might discourage any attempt. A stainless steel desk along the wall closest to the chair, I could only imagine what contraptions were hidden under its cool surface. The white curtain running along the length of the room reminded me of the doctor my father had visited when the Capitol's dog broke his ribs; the 'operating room' was nothing more than a living room separated from the rest of the tiny home by an old curtain that smelt heavily of bleach, much like the sheets.

**I wonder what's behind there.**

I take a few steps towards the curtain, my fingers brushing the slick fabric when I'm stopped by a rhythmic almost feline voice. "Yes, I'd be dying for a bath too if I were you."

"Babur! Don't be so rude! It's not her fault she smells," another voice chirped in.

I turn around slowly; reminding myself that the repercussions of savagely assaulting my prep team greatly outweighs the satisfaction I would get upon rearranging their faces. Once I see them however I don't think it's quite as necessary anymore; they seem to have done it for me. What I could only assume was a man walked into the middle of the room, the blinding light illuminating the intricate patters on his fur covered body and feline features. It took every ounce of control not to scream at the sight of him, why someone would to this to themselves is beyond my understanding.

**What the fuck is he supposed to be?**

He wore tight black pants and no shirt, revealing orange and black stripes running along the exposed areas of his body. The stripes all came together along the centre of his chest and abdomen where they slowly faded into white; even under all that fur I could see well sculpted muscle.

**He might have been attractive at some point in his life; before he mutated himself into a cat of course.**

Bringing my eyes back to his face I could hardly decipher where the human traits ended and the feline began, and in that mixture of an animal's and man's face were the most remarkable yet unsettling eyes I've ever came across. They were a deep gold starting from the wide slit of his pupil and transitioned to yellow in the outermost area of his iris; while unmistakably a pair of cats eyes there was still a human's intellect swimming inside the pools of gold. Until now I've never been intimidated by one of the citizens of the Capitol.

**Why do they do this to themselves?**

"I'm so sorry about Babur here, he can come off as a bit harsh sometimes, but he really is just a big kitten! Aren't you baby?" Her voice is higher than Callidora's but for some reason it isn't as infuriating. The woman standing in the doorway was so bright it was almost blinding, I'm sure if there was a power outage she would resemble the fireflies I'd chase as a child, not that the Capitol would have one in the first place. Her pale skin had a slight yellowish hue to it that matched her spiked sunflower yellow hair, making her violet irises and heavy black lashes stand out. Everything about her screamed synthetic much like her extremely revealing white latex dress.

"I know she's stunning but it is rude to stare…though I doubt she minds as much as I do." Despite Babur's words, I couldn't find any hostility in his rhythmic voice.

"I don't know if that's the right word for it..." I couldn't take my eyes off them; this is the first I've ever been around Capitol Creatures who have altered themselves to this extent, yes I've passed them by in at the stations in these past couple of days but I've never took the time to really look at the extent to their self mutilation.

"And what word would you use my dear?" This was the second time today that I was reminded of the question I had asked Rebecca Alta. Though in a slightly different way; there was no harshness to his tone, it was calm and rhythmic as it had been thus far.

** Is he testing me?**

I'd be a fool to think it wasn't there, he reminds me of an animal waiting to pounce.

"'Different' is more accurate, your different from what I'm used to in my District." I adapted the same tone I'd used whenever I came across one of the stray dogs in Four, after all in a few moments these people would play a substantial part in the way I looked from here on out.

**I'd rather remain looking human, thank you.**

Babur seemed to accept this answer, maybe even enjoy it from the way the corner of his lips pulled up in an odd expression I could only interpret as a smile. His expressions would take some getting used to on my part, if I bothered to get to know him.

**If I'm going to die, I'd rather not spend my time trying to understand these people. It really isn't worth the headache thus far.**

"See! I told you didn't I? Just a big kitten, isn't that smile just darling?" The yellow woman piped up from her spot in the door way.

"Dear, would you please stop calling me a 'big kitten' in front of our new Tribute? First impressions are everything and you're certainly doing a poor job." He motioned towards me with an expectant look directed towards his companion.

"Oh! How terribly rude of me, I can't believe I forgot. You know with Babur over here acting so chummy, geez!" She took a few long strides forward and thrust her hand out to me, "Fotini Vesta, it's a pleasure to meet you!"

I hesitate for a second before taking her outstretched hand, "Jacqueline Fitzgerald."

"Yes yes we know who you are, we are assigned to remake you into something desirable." Babur drawled from beside Fotini.

**What the fuck am I, chopped liver?!**

I narrow my eyes at the man, while tightening my grip on Fotini's hand.

"Owie! Not so tight!" She pulled her hand away, shaking it dramatically.

"Yes well thankfully we have our work cut out for us then, and Fotini stop babbling and let's get to work; Veleda is waiting and we only have so much time to work with." I looked over the blonde's shoulder to the source of the husky voice. The last member of my prep team was now making her way into the room, with a basket full of various bottles I had never seen before. Unlike the other two she was unmistakably beautiful; she wore a deep red dress with a slit up the side revealing long legs. She too was oddly pale like most of the Capitol Creatures whose skin hasn't been altered to a ridiculous shade or covered in fur like Barbur. Although her skin wasn't alarming the intensity of her features were unmistakably fabricated. Deep red hair that slowly faded into a pale pink, and spring green eyes that were surrounded by thick lashes and dark eye makeup, her plump lips were void of all pigment blending in with her paper white skin.

She smiled at me, revealing pearly white teeth, "Hullo excuse me for being late, as long as we're still on introductions my name is Aven Rose. Now lets see what we have to work with…" Her husky voice was thick with the Capitol's accent.

She pointed towards Babur, "Go get the wax strips, sponges and tweezers."

Within that brief moment that Aven walked through that door both Babur and Fotini seemed to take on an air of professionalism, next she gestured to Fotini.

"Yes Aven?" While her voice was still higher than most people's she lacked the bubbly air that surrounded her a few minutes ago.

"Go fill up the tub, we can't give her to Veleda looking like this, now can we?" It wasn't a question really but Fotini shook her head nonetheless.

"Good, we need the water hot. Or else we'll never get all of this off." She ran her finger down my cheek and proceeded in rubbing her index and thumb together like she was inspecting for dust.

I bit my lip to hold back the anger coursing through my veins.

**I get it I don't smell like one of you, but really what do you expect when I spend all day outside? Not all of us can live in your precious fucking 'utopia' with the luxury of regular baths at our disposal.**

The next thing I knew Aven's hands were on me, turning me around and unzipping my dress.

"E-excuse me! What the fuck are you doing lady?" I snarl as she pulls me out of my dress.

"Stop talking." Came Aven's demand removing my undergarments in a few fluid motions. While she scribbled some notes onto a pad of paper she was circling me like a vulture. Any attempt I made to cover myself was dismissed by an order to stop moving and a quick slap to the wrist. My cheeks were a deep enough red to rival her hair by this point, I've never been this exposed to a complete stranger before. Yea sure in the fishing district it wasn't uncommon for people to strip down and go for a swim but this is completely different, normally your only exposed for a split second before the water engulfs you; I'm pretty much on display here.

**Yes let's throw all modesty out the window, 'cause you know, clothes are so overrated.**

I make one last attempt to cover my bare breasts only to have my arms yanked back down to my sides by a very frustrated looking Aven.

**She could at least be more discrete about this process.**

Aven set her pad of paper down on the chair and walked over to the table where she set the basket down and started rummaging through the desk before pulling a tape measurer from one of the drawers. She then came back over to me and instructed me to hold out my arms while she took my measurements and jotted them down on the pad of paper.

**Well at least this is a promising indication that I won't be going to the parade in nothing but my skin.**

The thought of being exposed to the other Tributes and more importantly all of Panem twisted my stomach into knots.

**I swear if you do that to me I will make a point to haunt each and every one of you to your grave.**

"Perfect, now that that's over with, let's get you cleaned up." Aven stated cheerily before grabbing my wrist and pulling me through the curtain where Babur and Fotini stood by a large claw foot tub. "Fotini, be a doll and go grab mixtures one through six for me?" Aven said while motioning for Barbur to come over. Fotini soon disappeared behind the curtain and Babur and Aven directed me towards the tub, the steam was rolling off its surface in little tendrils.

**That does not look pleasant, what do they plan to do, make a lobster dinner out of me?**

"Now Jacqueline this is going to be very hot, so try not to struggle to much it only makes it harder for us." Aven cautioned as she exchanged a nod with Babur, soon after two hairy arms wrapped around my waist and hoisted me up and over the tub. As soon as the scolding water came in contact with my skin I recoiled in an attempt to avoid it all together. I could feel Babur's low laughter reverberate through his chest and into mine.

"It's not so bad once you get used to it." He purred into my ear before dropping me into the tub, resulting in a very irritated redhead.

"Babur, dear, for your own safety I desperately hope that you didn't cause my makeup to run." She growled, taking one bottle from Fotini as she reentered the sectioned off room and poured its contents into the water. The once clear liquid took on a greenish hue and smelt heavily of cucumber. "Fotini hand me that shower head, and bottles five and six. Fotini take bottle number three and work on scrubbing away all this dirt, and then work on cleaning up those nails. Babur take the last bottle, go heat up the wax, and cut the strips. I want this all done within the hour; not exceptions we've taken long enough as it is."

* * *

By the time they released me from my scolding prison the tendrils had stopped rolling off the water's soapy surface. My skin was so red and tender I reminded myself of a newborn, everything that touched my skin sent tingles through my body; the towels they used to dry me off as fluffy as they appeared to be felt like tiny grains of sand being pressed into every pore. Once dried off Aven wrapped my hair in a fresh towl and led me to the other side of the curtain. The air on this side of the room was so cool and welcoming that I actually considered laying down on the cool floor. My prep team didn't have the same thing in mind however and instead I was instructed to lay down on the odd chair I had first noticed upon entering the room earlier.

"Babur, do you have that wax ready?" Aven asked as she laid out the tweezers and strips of cloth upon the desk beside the chair.

"Yes it's right here," Babur set a large container down on the desk.

"Good, now rub her down with bottle number three and Fotini go prepare bottles four and seven and take the left once you're done, I want 40:60."

"Okay!" Her tiny voice chirped as she started rummaging through the empty bottles in the basket for the reaming two.

Babur walked up to me pulling on a pair of latex gloves with a purple bottle tucked under his arm. I must have looked nervous because when his eyes met mine another set of low laughter escaped his thin black lips.

"Don't look so horrified dear, this is by far the least uncomfortable part of your transformation." He purred before squirting some of the bottle's contents into his gloved hands. His eerie eyes met mine once more and his lips pulled up into one of his unnerving smiles.

**I wonder if I'll ever become accustomed to the Capitol's oddities… **

My mind drifts to my copper headed mentor, and how he seems so comfortable here; I can't help but wonder if all of the Victors are that accepting, or if they merely learn to coexist with these wretched people.

I take in a sharp breath of air as the icy liquid is rubbed into my skin. My eyes shoot up to the man above me, of course he still has that smile plastered on his face revealing a set of elongated canines.

"Wow shocking, you really went all out." I mutter under my breath.

"Well of course I did," he mused while rubbing the mixture over my skin, clearly disregarding my sarcasm. "Now relax this wont last for very long my dear."

I tried to block out the path his hands took as he worked the mixture into my skin, instead I turned my attention to Aven as she pulled a trolley up to the desk and started laying items down on it. Within a few minutes Babur's hands were off me, "Flip over."

After a moments hesitation I turned around, keeping my eyes focused on what Aven was doing; anything to distract myself from Babur and the cool liquid.

I watched as Aven pulled up a trolley with white fabric strips laid out on it, a few wooden sticks and a smaller glass jar containing some of the substance from the container Babur had laid on the desk. She waited patiently for Babur to finish his task before shooing him away with a flick of her slender wrist. The unease began to rise in the pit of my stomach once more as she started coating my right arm with the warm sap like substance. She laid one of the pieces of cut cloth over what they had referred to as wax.

**What does she intend to do, cover me in bandages?**

Before I could debate her reasoning she grasped one end of the cloth and yanked it off in one fluid motion, I instantly clenched my teeth together to dull the painful groan resounding in my throat.

**What the fuck!?**

"Wha-" I was about to assault her with questions when she pressed a finger to my mouth, a stern expression coated her features.

"Quiet, I need my concentration or I may miss a spot; and I we do not have the time to do with twice. Please save your questions for later sweetie."

Despite her feeble attempt to calm me it only made my anger intensify.

**Who was she to call me sweetie? Or any of them for that matter; I don't understand their affinity for pet names.**

However I decided it was in my best interest to comply, anything to get this over with quicker, and my outbursts weren't helping. Soon after Aven applied another strip to my arm, Fotini appeared on my right with the rest of the wax and cloth.

* * *

The time in which they took to remove all of my 'unwanted hair' as Fotini put it was the longest and most excruciating thirty minutes of my time in the Capitol thus far. After they were done with the strips of cloth, each one of them took up a pair of tweezers and because circling my body plucking away any hair that they missed. It's an odd feeling being without any hair aside from my head; which they thankfully left alone aside from what they called shaping my eyebrows, I wasn't aware there was a specific shape they had to be in so long as there was two of them and they rested somewhere above my eyes.

As I sit here on the chair awaiting Veleda I find I have a better understanding of how the fish I catch feel after I strip them of their scales, but of course they're already dead when this occurs and I've come to the conclusion that they are far better off than me.

**Well at least Fotini gave me a robe to put on.**

There's a shred of gratitude for the bright woman, it's hardly there but present nonetheless. I smile slightly to myself; in the quiet that now surrounds me I can just make out the sound of Mag's soft snoring on the other side of the wall. During my ordeal with the prep team I had completely forgotten that she followed after me.

**She really does have an unexpected sleeping pattern.**

My smile deepens as I recall the mornings I'd spend with her and my father.

**The sun had barely broken out over the horizon, only the ghost of it's rays started to lighten the blues with hues of soft oranges and pale pinks; it was beautiful. My father had long since abandoned his fishing pole to talk to Mags, taking up the discarded pole I cast the line of the dock; listening to the gurgling noises pouring out of her mouth. This is how it would go most nights; he would ask her few questions leaving most of the talking to her, and I would scarcely understand her answers. It became easier over time; I just had to listen hard enough for the words beneath all the gurgling. Most nights they'd talk about previous Tributes and The Games. This time it was my mother whom she told stories about, so there I sat on the edge of the dock listening to Mags describe my mothers last hours; fiddling with the reel in my hands and wishing I could remember more about her aside from the elusive women in my dreams and the few foggy memories I had of her.**

I'm pulled from my thoughts by the steady clicking of heels on tile, my eyes snap to the door as I wait patiently for it to open. Soon the clicking stops and the door is pushed open. The woman who stands there is nothing like I expected, she's plain for being from the Capitol. Her pale blue eyes and paper white skin would be almost indistinguishable from her pale blond hair if it weren't for her dark eyebrows and thick lashes. Her hair is pulled up into an intricate cluster of curls that meet just below a brown top hat, adorned with a belt and ribbon lacing down the front of the hat and tied at the base; the black ribbon hanging just off the rim of her hat. She's an extremely slender woman, almost resembling the build of a child if it weren't for the extremely tight corset fastened overtop of a loose white blouse and flowing skirt; both the skirt and corset matching the hat perfectly. As she approaches me I'm sure even without the heels and hat she'd still stand a foot above my head. When she speaks her voice is clear and only holds the slightest hint of an accent, "Hello Jacqueline, my name is Veleda. I'll be your head stylist, among other things. Would you please stand up for me?"

I do as she asked, all the while not being able to take my eyes off her.

**Do they not realize people in other districts are starving?**

I can't help but remember the child from Twelve who's sister took her place.

**She was so frail looking, like she hasn't had a solid meal in ages**.

Then my mind wanders to the people of Four, yes we're not nearly as malnourished as Eleven and Twelve; however there is no denying we often go to bed hungry. We're better fed because of our resources, unfortunately almost all of those resources are never seen by us, and as soon as the boats dock the Peacekeepers are waiting to take eighty percent of the days haul. The few fishermen who have tried to hide part of their catch are either beaten to a pulp or hauled away to face punishment in the Capitol. Needless to say we've never tried hanging our catch under the boat in a sack or anything similar; you might as well do a chum slick.

Veleda's voice interrupts my thoughts, "I must be revolting."

**Was I that obvious?**

My eyes follow her as she makes a circle around me; she stops in front of me and gently grabs my chin. "Your expression… you really hate us do you not?" A breathless laugh slips past her lips as she turns my face to the side, "Well… I cannot necessarily say that I blame you. What horrid beasts we must be, merely only taking the shape of humans."

She's taken me completely off guard, I cannot form the words to either disagree or agree with her.

I know I should disagree if only to be polite, but since when did these people ever possess a heart and when did I start caring about whatever fleeting emotions they might feel.

I don't try to hide the resentment flooding my features.

**They aren't even human as far as I'm concerned and I owe them nothing.**

Veleda holds my gaze for a few seconds before giving a short nod and releasing my face, it's all she needs to confirm her suspicions.

"I see, I hope you can forgive me one day Jacqueline." Veleda circles me once more before motioning for me to sit back down; she leans against the desk after pulling out a large leather book from one of its bottom drawers.

I sit there for a moment, going over what she said. She's the only Capitol Creature who's ever shown an ounce of humanity; or at least as far as I'm aware, and even then they would be very few. The more I think about this woman the harder it is for me to bring myself to hate her, there seems to be so much more to her than meets the eye, and it is possible that she isn't as despicable as the other inhabitants of her District.

"So what do you plan to do to me?" The question comes out more open ended than I intended and I almost instantly hear her giggling.

"What ever do you mean?" The laughter was poorly hidden in her voice, "I am not going to hurt you if that is what you are asking."

"That's not what I meant," I snap a slight pink tinting my cheaks, "I meant what are you planning on putting me in for the parade… hopefully you're going to put me in something."

"Oh yes that, of course. Well you see that's what I'm doing now," Veleda said twirling a pencil in her hand and bringing it back down to the leather bound sketch book.

"I see..." I trailed off thinking of all the previous tributes decorated as fish.

The scratching of Veleda's pencil ceases and when I look at her she appears deep in thought. "You know…" she starts, her voice far away, "When I was a child I remember watching the games with my nanny, my mother and father were gamemakers. They did not have much free time for me around this time of year; my favorite part of this whole thing was not the games but the parade. I loved watching the Tributes on those carriages, it was dazzling actually." She stopped for a moment, the faraway expression leaving her features with a small smile, "You see I am relatively new to this, it will only be my second year. If it weren't for my parent's influence I most likely would not have been given one of the more sought after Districts. I guess what I am trying to say is that you have very little to worry about as far as aesthetics go, I have no intention of dressing you up as something as distasteful as the previous Tributes from Four."

I relaxed a little with those words; it truly was a relief to know I wouldn't be dressed up in something so ridiculous. Though I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous.

"Can you sing?" Veleda asked

The question srurpised me and I could only look at her dumbfounded for a moment, "Well can you or not?" she persisted.

"Uh… yes I suppose I can." I mumbled

"You suppose you can, or you can?" I couldn't help but wonder why she's asking me such irrevilant questions.

"I can, but I fail to see where this become rellivent."

"Are you familure with sirens Jacqueline?" Veleda had stopped scribbling her book for a moment and was now staring at me the excitement flaring in her eyes contrasting heavily with her stony expression.

"Uh yes I guess so, just the children's bedtime stories my father would tell me and the song's I'd sometimes hear the fishermen's wives sing around the market." My voice was cautious as I eyed her.

**What's she getting at?**

"Well as I am sure you already know, the Tributes from each District generally complement each other in the parade; usually dressed in the same costume. I however have something different in mind; I want you to complement each other but in a different way. Tell me did you ever learn one of those songs for yourself?" She had set her pencil down and hopped up ontop of the desk, with her head propped up by her hand; it astounded me that should managed to move so fluently in such a dress.

"Just one… I'm really not sure this is such a good idea, if you're planning on making me sing I doubt they'll hear me what with all the applause that the other Districts will receive." I couldn't help but fiddle with the tie of my robe, anything to distract myself from where this conversation was going.

"Oh I will be taking care of that, do not worry about how it will work. Right now I just need you to sing," Veleda looked at me expectantly and when I didn't open my mouth she pressed, "come on then, out with it!"

A groan sounded at the back of my throat, "Is this really necessary?"

Veleda's pale eyes narrowed into slits, her smooth voice taking on a slight edge, "Of course it is, and unless you want to wear the same thing as the previous Tributes I suggest you follow my advice. We need to make a lasting impression, and this will get our foot in the door so to speak. Now sing."

I took in a deep breath of air before, defeat washing over me like a wave, "Fine, but if it isn't what you want we'll move on to something else right?"

She rolled her eyes before answering, "Yes well I suppose I will have to think of something else but we really do not have any time to waste, so please do not disappoint me."

It wasn't exactly a threat but I didn't want to find out what she would do to me if I didn't make an effort.

"Here goes nothing…Upon one summer's morning

I carefully did stray

Down by the willows weeping

Where I met a sailor gay

Conversing with a young lass

Who seemed to be in pain

Saying, William, when you go

I fear you'll ne'er return again

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I distain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

His hair it hangs in ringlets

His eyes as black as coals

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From tower hill to black wall

I'll wander, weep and mourn

All for my jolly sailor

Until he sails home

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My name it is Maria

A merchant's daughter fair

And I have left my parents

and three thousand pounds a year

Come all you pretty fair maids

Whoever you may be

Who love a jolly sailor

That plows the raging sea

While up aloft in storm

From me his absence mourn

And firmly pray arrive the day

He's never more to roam..."

My voice trails off, I haven't sung in front of anyone aside from my father. Even then it's only when we were out at sea; it makes the job pass by a lot more pleasantly.

"Perfect! This will work perfectly with what I have planned. Now you're sure you can do that again?" Veleda was absolutely ecstatic, which I found unnerving.

**Maybe I should have just told her I can't sing…**

* * *

For the last few hours my vision has been a blur of orange, yellow and red as my prep team swarm around me. Aven brushing my skin and face with various creams and powers, Fotini pulling my hair this way and that, and Babur making adjustments to my outfit; all of which I haven't been able to have a glimpse of yet. All the while Veleda has been perched on top of a ridiculously high chair yelling orders and words of encouragement to the three.

Finally the three of them step back, giving me room to breath for the first time in three hours as Veleda circles me; something I've grown accustomed to in my short time knowing her. She made a few adjustments but by the third time circling she stopped just short of giving me a headache and slowly clapped her hands together. "Well, well, well! I do believe she's perfect." The trio gave a breath of relief and slumped into near by chairs.

"Geez I thought we'd never be done, why couldn't we just make her a fish?" Folini whined from her seat beside Babur.

"Because it's been done already Foli, now will you please be quiet for a moment so I can enjoy the finished product?" Veleda huffed as she circled around me once more, "Alright you can check yourself out in that mirror over there." She motioned to the far wall where a full body mirror hung.

The woman looking back at me was like nothing I've ever seen before; my dark hair cascaded down my shoulders like waves ending at my waist. An intricate necklace weaved out of thin white rope was fastened closely to my neck like a collar; it wove down into an inverted triangle ending at a silver hoop between my breasts. I was thankful that they chose to cover my torso however I concluded that these creatures have no concept of modesty. My breasts were covered by the same intricately woven rope on top of nude cloth that matched my skin tone perfectly, the only thing holding my 'top' in place were three individual ropes on each cup attached to the silver rings woven into the necklace. In the center of the top where the sliver hoop lay each cup of the top and necklace met. Branching out from that point intricate weaving spanned to the middle of each cup and plummeted down the centre of my torso where it was attached to another silver hoop and woven belt; leaving my sides and back free of all fabric. The skirt is probably the most conservative garment I wore; it's thin white fabric is woven into the belt and reaches my ankles where I have a pair of sandals woven in the same fashion as the rest of the outfit, the rope lacing up my claves is only visible through the slit running up the left side of the skirt. My skin is decorated with what resembled blue fish scales running over my shoulders, forearms, and torso; spreading across my back and fading out over my ribcage and hips.

As I go to touch the pattern, horror rising in my chest Veleda stops me, "No do not touch it Jacqueline, it is only makeup you do not have to worry it will wash off later. I would not dream of altering your appearance permanently, this is simply to reel in the crowd." She winked at me and motioned for me to continue, "You still have a few minutes before it's time to leave you might as well get used to what you look like, it would be unfortunate if you were to choke mid-song upon seeing yourself in one of the screens."

I offered her a small smile before turning back to the mirror. This time I took in my face, I still looked like myself despite the amount of makeup I could feel plastered to my skin. My eyes were adorned with various shades of brown, starting with black and gradually blending out into my olive skin tone. My cheekbones were more defined than I remember and my full lips were coated in a dark rose red lipstick, I instantly shot a look over to Aven.

**Most likely her idea…**

Her sly grin only confirmed my suspicion, my eyelashes felt heavy and I had a hard time imagining how these woman ever felt comfortable.

Babur's rhythmic voice cut though the silence, "So my dear, how do you like it?"

The satisfaction was clear in his voice and I couldn't help but feel a little selfcontious.

"What do you mean? Of course she loves it! Just look at her, absolutly stunning! I do say we've done a lovely job." Fotini chirped as she jumped up and walked over to the door, "I however do not look my best right now, and I would much rather remedy that before the festivities!" There was a slight pause before she cleared her throat and waited at the door impatiently.

"Oh yes of course darling." Babur promptly got up and headed for the door, stopping briefly before he closed the door he shot over his shoulder, "Please be a doll and don't ruin our hard work, I've only just started to like you and it'd be a shame to throw that out the window so soon."

"I'll try not to." I muttered dryly as I turned my back to him. I heard his low chuckling just before the gentle click of the door shutting.

"Don't worry about him, he's harmless… but I should be going as well; Veleda I'll meet you at the parade, break a leg sweetie" Aven's husky voice mused as she too left the room. I looked at Veleda half expecting her to leave too, she just shook her head and motioned for me to stay still, "I have a surprise for you." Nodding I waited in anticipation as she walked over to a switch beside the door, looking over her shoulder a smirk slid over her sleek features and then the lights went out. I couldn't stop the gasp from escaping my lips at the sight before me; everything was pitch black aside from a soft aquamarine glow illuminating from the fish scales painted along my body. I quickly spun around and took in my reflection illuminated by the faint glow, it was breath taking; my lips and eyes stood out almost black against my paled skin, and it was only then that I noticed the fine strings of shells braided into my curls and in the glow dark deep purples and sea foam greens showed through the previously monochromatic blues.

"It's beautiful..." I murmured in a trance, I couldn't believe this was me.

"I'm glad you like it, though it wouldn't be nearly as effective used on any other Tribute." Suddenly light flooded the room and Veleda motioned for me to follow her out the door, "Your chariot awaits."

* * *

AN: Ah ! I'm so sorry for disappearing like that. I've been working a lot and hit a few other road blocks during this chapter. I kept writing it and scraping it because I just couldn't get it right. I tried to make this chapter long enough to make up for neglecting it for so long. I hope you've gotten a good sense of the new characters, if you have any comments, questions, or concerns please let me know! I'm going to keep this short seeing as its 12 am and I've been writing all day rereading and editing anything I missed in this chapter and all my others. I'll be starting the new chapter once I have this one up, I can't promise when it'll be out but it shouldn't be more than a week. Once again I'm sorry for being inactive for so long. Until next time!

-Jacqueline


End file.
